THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 


THE 


SHADOW  OF   THE  WAR 


of  tfje 


IN  RECONSTRUCTION   TIMES. 


CHICAGO: 
JANSEN,   McCLURG,  &  COMPANY. 

1884. 


COPYRIGHT, 

BY  JAXSEN,  McCLURG,  &  CO., 
A.  D.  1884. 


PS 

111 

AiSy? 


Cfje 


WHOSE   SUGGESTION   FIRST   PROMPTED   THE   WORK,   AND   WHOSE 
ENCOURAGEMENT   MATERIALLY  ASSISTED   TOWARDS 

ITS   COMPLETION, 
THIS   BOOK   IS   GRATEFULLY   AND   AFFECTIONATELY   DEDICATED. 


13SECC5 


CONTENTS. 


I. — THE  CITY  OF  CARROLLTON,   -        ...  5 

II. — A  FISHING  EXCURSION,        ....  12 

III. — THE  FISHERMEN'S  LUCK,        ....  21 

IV.— A  SOCIAL  DUTY  PERFORMED,       ...  30 

V. — MR.   GlLDERSLEEVE    MEETS    SOME  F.   F.  V.,          -  39 

VI. — THE  REMOVAL  TO  BELLEVILLE,       ...  50 

VII. — "A  MAN'S  A  MAN  FOR  A'  THAT,"        -        -  64 

VIII. — A  SOUTHERN  FIRE-EATER,  -        -                    '-  76 

IX. — ONE  OF  A  NEW  GENERATION,      ...  91 

X. — SOME  DELUSIONS  EXPLODED,  ....  99 

XI. — MlSS  GlLDERSLEEVE    MAKES  A    CONFESSION,  IIO 

XII. — A  MIDNIGHT  ALARM,          -     •««-  120 

XIII. — MAJOR  MIXON  TELLS  HIS  STORY,          -        -  128 

XIV. — A  CONFERENCE  AND  A  SEARCH,  -        -        -  136 

XV. — "A  POLITICAL  Boss,"     ...                .  146 

XVI. — MR.   GlLDERSLEEVE  BECOMES  MORE  DISGUSTED,  159 

XVII. — A  LEGISLATIVE  SCENE,        -  165 

XVIII. — SOME  POLITICAL  REFLECTIONS,      -        -        -  183 

XIX. — A  VISIT  AND  ITS  CONSEQUENCES,        -        -  193 

XX. — THE  EXPEDITION,  ------  212 

(3) 


CONTENTS. 


PAGE 

XXI. — THE  PUNISHMENT,       -        -        -        -       -  220 

XXII. — THE  PURSUIT, 229 

XXIII. — A  REVELATION,  -        -        -        .    -   .       .  240 

XXIV. — POMPEY  BECOMES  UNHAPPY,         ...  250 

XXV. — THE  BEGINNING  OF  THE  END,     ...  258 

XXVI. — THE  SCHEMER  AND  HIS  TOOL,        ...  270 

XXVII. — THE  POLITICIANS'  STROKE,  284 

XXVIII. — A  TERRIBLE  OCCURRENCE,     ....  295 

XXIX. — AFTER  THE  COMBAT, 308 

XXX. —  A  SURPRISE, 323 

XXXI.— EXPLANATIONS, 333 

XXXII.— THE  TRIAL, 342 

XXXIII.— THE  VERDICT, 356 

XXXIV. — MAN  PROPOSES,  BUT  WOMAN — ?     ...  365 

XXXV. — CONCLUSION, 372 


THE  SHADOW  OF  THE  WAR, 


CHAPTER    I. 

THE   CITY  OF   CARROLLTON. 

r  I  "'HE  period  of  war  had  passed  ;  its  horrors  and 
JL  its  crimes,  its  heroisms  and  its  martyrdoms, 
belonged  to  a  past  equally  sacred  in  the  eyes  of  both 
combatants.  But  throughout  that  sunny  Southland, 
where  nature's  gifts  are  lavished  so  carelessly,  there 
still  remained  many  marks  of  those  four  bloody  years. 
On  every  side  the  earth  was  trampled ; — in  the  mad, 
reckless  fight  the  invaded  people  lightly  sacrificed 
possessions  they  prized  next  to  life,  in  order  that  the 
enemy  might  not  employ  them;  or  the  victor  destroyed 
whatever  lay  in  his  path,  that  the  victory  might  be 
more  complete.  Between  the  two,  the  work  was  done 
well ;  so  well,  that  it  is  not  hard  to  imagine  the  satis 
faction  of  the  Evil  Spirit  when  he  heard  the  distant 
sounds. 

However,  the  war  was  ended,  and  the  country  had 
peace,  as  many  people  thought.  But  did  they  think 
correctly?  By  no  means.  Not  immediately  was  the 
South  prepared  to  accept  the  results  as  final.  The 
overthrow  of  all  her  preconceived  ideas  constituted 
a  change  too  stupendous  to  be  accepted  in  a  moment, 
and  in  her  night  of  despair  she  could  not,  she  would 

(5) 


THE   SHADOW  OF    THE   WAR. 


not,  open  her  eyes  and  see  the  prescribed  road.  Beaten 
in  war,  she  endeavored  by  legislation  to  reverse  what 
her  sword  could  not  prevent ;  and  among  the  horrors 
of  the  Reconstruction  period,  Kukluxism  arose  to  de 
grade  her  civilization  before  the  world.  But  do  what 
she  would,  her  aims  were  foiled  at  every  step.  The 
negro  was  a  freedman,  and  all  her  efforts  against  his 
exercise  of  suffrage  were  but  the  last  struggles  of  an 
expiring  oligarchy.  Kukluxism  was  the  fit  offspring 
of  such  an  hour  of  birth.  Child  as  it  was  of  a  period 
of  anarchy,  nursed  in  the  atmosphere  of  revolution,  its 
means  and  its  aims  were  alike  unworthy  of  success,  and 
in  its  very  birth  they  bred  the  seeds  of  self-destruction. 
Gradually  and  reluctantly  the  South  saw  that  the 
struggle  was  of  no  avail.  But  ah  !  the  truth  was  bitter 
to  acknowledge.  Slowly  she  accepted  it,  but  in  her  ter 
rible  anguish  she  failed  to  see  the  remedy.  Then  came 
the  period  of  despair,  when  her  hopelessness  was  as 
profound  as  her  action  had  been  energetic.  Having 
lost  that  for  which  her  people  had  fought  so  bravely, 
she  believed  all  lost,  and  saw  not  that  there  was  a  way 
open  to  future  and  more  substantial  prosperity.  She 
had  created  her  own  ideal ;  losing  this,  she  could  ap 
preciate  no  foreign  gods,  and  time  alone  could  bring 
reconcilement. 

Hence  it  was,  that,  stunned  at  last  by  the  realiza 
tion  of  a  defeat  she  never  dreamed  possible,  crippled 
and  bleeding  from  a  uselessly  prolonged  struggle,  now 
that  her  arrogant  self-assertion  was  so  sorely  wounded, 
the  South  lay,  careless  of  her  fate,  at  the  feet  of  her 
conqueror,  and  paid  but  little  heed  to  the  hordes  of 
vultures  which  had  been  attracted  by  the  smell  of  blood. 
Was  there  ever  a  field  of  battle  where  they  could  not 


THE    CITY  OF  CARROLLTON. 


be  found  after  the  smoke  had  cleared  away  ?  Was 
there  ever  a  victorious  army  that  did  not  leave  in  its 
train  thousands  of  human  vultures  ready  to  exhaust  the 
few  drops  of  blood  remaining  in  the  victim  ?  And  was 
there  ever  a  land  undergoing  revolution,  where  there 
was  not  a  scum  of  its  own  production  rising  to  the 
surface  ? 

This,  then,  was  the  problem  being  worked  out  in 
these  years.  Bereft  of  her  wealth  and  exhausted  in  her 
resources,  the  South  struggled  on,  not  always  wisely, 
until  conviction  was  forced  upon  her,  and  then  she 
quickly  sank  into  a  profound  apathy.  No  sooner  did 
she  yield,  than  the  carpet-baggers,  those  human  vul 
tures  with  political  instincts,  swooped  down  upon  the 
tempting  prize.  They  came  in  flocks  from  all  parts  of 
the  Union  ;  some  few  were  home  birds.  If  the  South 
was  to  survive  her  wounds,  she  had  still  to  fight  these 
more  subtle  enemies  who  sought  to  prey  upon  her  mis 
fortunes  and  to  take  advantage  of  her  numerous  errors. 
Would  she  ever  escape  ?  Would  she  ever  shake  off  her 
indifference  and  crush  these  drinkers  of  blood  ?  We 
shall  see. 

In  ante-bellum  days,  the  city  of  Carrollton  had  been 
one  of  the  fairest  in  the  South.  Settled  in  the  early 
colonial  life  of  our  country,  by  refugees  from  religious 
proscription,  it  soon  grew  rapidly,  and  acquired,  mainly 
through  commerce,  an  importance  in  this  section  of  the 
Republic.  Its  blood  and  its  money  had  been  freely 
expended  for  the  sake  of  liberty  in  the  wars  against 
England,  and  the  reputation  of  its  people  for  military 
enterprise  and  steadfast  adherence  to  principle  had 
been  maintained  under  all  circumstances.  Prior  to 
the  war,  however,  the  city  had  become  in  many  res- 


8  THE  SHADOW  OF    THE   WAR. 

pects  very  provincial,  and  lacked  that  element  of  pro- 
gressiveness  which  is  so  conspicuous  a  characteristic  of 
our  American  towns.  It  was  not  difficult  to  under 
stand  the  reasons  for  this  peculiarity  :  they  were,  in 
deed,  very  apparent  to  the  observer,  since  underlying 
them  all  was  the  institution  of  slavery.  Its  early  set 
tlers  had  acquired  large  estates,  which  became  im 
mensely  valuable  because  of  the  cotton  and  rice  they 
bore  for  the  export  trade.  These  lands  had  remained 
almost  entirely  in  the  hands  of  the  old  families,  who 
also  owned  numerous  slaves.  The  revenues  yielded 
were  abundant,  and  placed  their  possessors  on  the 
plane  of  luxurious  opulence.  Of  course,  an  aristoc 
racy  was  in  time  created,  with  its  inevitable  distinc 
tions  between  itself  and  the  plebeian.  Naturally,  all 
the  reins  of  government  were  held  by  the  former  class  ; 
and  as  life  was  easy  for  them,  as  there  was  no 
stimulus  to  stir  them  to  constant  activity,  they  quietly 
settled  down  in  the  ways  of  their  fathers.  The  world 
moved  on,  and  Carrollton,  in  her  slow  metropolitan 
growth,  failed  to  accomplish  the  brilliant  promises  of 
her  youth. 

But  if  she  lagged  behind  in  extending  the  city  limits, 
the  development  of  her  people  progressed  rapidly,  and 
consisted,  it  might  be  said,  of  an  assiduous  cultivation 
of  themselves  in  every  respect.  The  absence  of  an 
active  and  continuous  growth  did  not  concern  the  good 
citizens.  Quantity  was  absolutely  nothing  to  them, 
except,  possibly,  as  it  might  increase  their  national 
importance.  They  were  quite  content  that  the  high 
degree  of  their  excellence,  as  measured  by  a  self- 
erected  standard,  should  compensate  for  other  defi 
ciencies.  The  manners  of  the  people — the  allusion  of 


THE   CITY  OF  CARROLLTON. 


course  being  to  the  representative  class — became  ele 
gant  and  accomplished.  Their  reputation  for  indi 
vidual  refinement  was  as  extensive  as  it  was  well 
founded.  Their  attainments  in  the  arts  and  sciences, 
as  well  as  in  literature,  were  excellent,  and  not  a  few 
of  her  sons  had  acquired  more  than  a  local  celebrity. 
In  politics  she  had  sent  to  the  Capitol  men  who  helped 
to  shape  the  destinies  of  the  land,  and  whose  eloquence 
had  startled  a  nation.  Unfortunately,  however,  they 
did  not  see  that  the  very  circumstances  which  per 
mitted  the  maturity  of  their  powers,  also  afforded 
nutriment  for  their  idiosyncrasies  and  vices.  They 
knew  their  good  qualities,  without  seeing  the  defects  ; 
and  the  possession  of  great  wealth,  which  from  its 
nature  was  but  slightly  subject  to  serious  reverses  and 
promoted  the  formation  of  powerful  families,  tended 
to  foster  this  egotism.  It  accustomed  the  owners  to 
contemn  with  the  eye  of  conscious  superiority  all  who 
were  beyond  their  pale ;  and  the  sense  of  power  and 
authority  gradually  became  welded  into  their  natures. 
The  rich  Southerner  had  no  opposition  to  encounter 
in  his  personal  affairs.  His  word  was  law  over  his 
estate,  and  his  class  ruled  at  least  the  local  politics  of 
the  hour.  Coming  of  a  family  founded  in  early  colo 
nial  days,  which  acquired  both  wealth  and  solidity  in 
each  succeeding  generation,  he  felt  proud  of  his  blue 
blood,  and  was  loth  to  admit  to  an  equality  with  him 
self  any  save  those  whose  right  was  as  undisputed  as 
his  own.  Their  over-weening  self-confidence,  their 
excessive  and  often  unjust  exclusiveness,  are  readily 
recognized  as  the  fruit  of  a  long  germination  ;  and 
while  they  were  brave  and  gallant  men,  equally  ready 
to  fight  a  duel  or  to  wage  a  war,  their  pride  disdained 


10  THE   SHADOW  OF   THE   WAR, 

what  seemed  to  them  inferiority,  and  they  were  sensi 
tive  in  the  extreme  to  any  encroachment  upon  what 
they  deemed  their  inherited  rights,  won  in  the  revolu 
tionary  struggle.  Their  arrogant  disposition  was  quickly 
demonstrated,  oftentimes  unfortunately,  preventing  rec 
ognition  of  their  surpassing  generosity,  and  reputing 
to  them  other  qualities  not  so  naturally  acquired  nor  so 
easily  excused 

The  war,  however,  had  left  them  sadly  demoralized. 
The  shock  of  the  result  had  been  very  great,  and  as  a 
consequence  the  people  had  taken  but  little  inter 
est  in  political  affairs  since  the  downfall  of  the  Con 
federacy.  How  the  local  government  had  fallen  into 
the  hands  of  the  Radical  party,  is  now  common  matter 
of  history  ;  and  it  is  also  well  known  how  the  final 
complete  indifference  of  the  whites  permitted  the 
negro,  unmolested  for  a  time,  the  full  enjoyment  of  his 
newly  acquired '  privileges.  Nor  did  the  stagnation 
affect  the  people  of  Carrollton  only  as  regards  politics  ; 
trade,  commerce,  society,  all  were  involved.  True,  the 
business  interests  of  the  city  had  just  begun  to  revive  ; 
but  years  must  necessarily  elapse  before  her  recovery, 
after  the  loss  of  so  much  capital,  could  be  complete. 
Before  the  war,  her  position  in  the  South  had  been  a 
commanding  one  ;  now,  her  prestige  and  capital  were 
gone  ;  then,  she  had  owned  the  chief  railroads  center 
ing  around  her  ;  now,  these  roads  were  ruined  or  oper 
ated  in  favor  of  other  cities,  and  rival  lines  had  been 
built.  Then,  she  had  a  large  local  business  from  the 
immense  surrounding  plantations  ;  now,  this  trade  was 
virtually  gone.  Finally,  her  present  government  offered 
no  temptation  to  investment.  Taxes  were  ruinously 
high;  and  the  race  problem,  yet  to  be  solved,  rendered 


THE    CITY  OF  CARROLLTON. 


the  situation  too  uncertain  to  suit  the  timidity  of  cap 
ital.  Indeed,  this  race  problem  was  the  great  and 
absorbing  question,  at  the  time,  to  the  whole  land. 
For  the  past  few  years,  the  apathy  of  the  whites  had 
given  complete  reign  to  the  carpet-bag  rule,  and  its 
sway  was  now  undisputed,  save  in  very  exceptional 
instances.  But  could  this  condition  of  affairs  continue 
any  length  of  time  ?  Was  it  a  normal  result  ?  Was 
the  solution  of  the  problem  to  be,  that  intelligence  and 
capital,  because  linked  with  numerical  weakness,  should 
yield  to  the  demands  of  ignorance  and  poverty, 
even  though  they  floated  on  the  wave  of  majority  ? 
The  problem  was  unanswered  ;  and  the  uncertainties 
of  the  situation  spread  their  deepening  shadows  over 
the  commercial  prosperity  and  enterprise  of  the  city. 


CHAPTER   II. 

A  FISHING   EXCURSION. 

ONE  Saturday  afternoon,  in  the  early  autumn  of 
187 — ,  a  small  sloop  was  lazily  beating  down  the 
coast  a  few  miles  north  of  Carrollton  harbor.  The  day 
had  been  oppressively  hot,  slightly  relieved  now  by  a 
gentle  southeast  breeze,  which  came  in  puffs,  and  was 
barely  enough  to  steady  a  sail.  The  yacht  moved  along 
slowly  and  rather  spasmodically  under  its  influence, 
holding  the  low  sandy  coast  in  easy  sight  on  the  west. 
Afar  off  to  the  east,  beneath  a  sky  flecked  occasionally 
by  the  snowy  summer  cloud,  the  Atlantic  Ocean  lay 
stretched  in  blue  expanse  to  the  horizon,  the  calm  of 
its  surface  broken  only  by  light  ripples.  The  yacht 
was  a  beautiful  vessel  of  a  few  tons  burthen.  Her  hull 
was  painted  white,  with  an  azure  streak  above  the  water 
line,  and  on  each  side  of  her  bow  was  lettered  in  gold 
the  word  "  ELLA."  At  present,  she  was  gracefully  toy 
ing  with  the  waters  ;  but  her  trim-built,  rakish  model, 
her  tapering  mast  and  huge  mainsail,  at  once  suggested 
strength  and  speed.  No  other  vessel  was  in  sight,  and 
the  occupants  of  the  "  Ella "  were  the  only  living 
beings  to  be  seen,  except  that  perhaps  once  in  a  long 
while  a  huge  porpoise  would  rise  to  the  surface  of  the 
water,  attest  his  surprise  at  their  presence  by  an  ugly 
snort,  and  then,  as  if  abashed  by  his  own  temerity, 
as  suddenly  disappear.  Or  a  few  gulls  might  be  seen 

(12) 


A   FISHING  EXCURSION.  13 

hovering  overhead,  searching  for  the  luck  that  would 
give  them  a  good  fat  fish  to  dine  upon. 

In  the  boat  were  four  men.  One,  a  negro,  was  at 
the  rudder,  and  held  the  mainsheet.  Another  negro 
was  engaged  in  washing  a  few  plates  and  clearing 
away  the  remains  of  a  dinner.  The  other  two  were 
white,  and  were  stretched  listlessly  on  the  small  for 
ward  deck  in  the  shelter  afforded  by  the  jib  from  the 
^un's  rays.  Occasionally  they  exchanged  remarks,  but 
apparently  they  were  either  satisfied  with  their  own 
thoughts,  or  else  very  intent  on  watching  the  wreathing 
curls  of  smoke  as  it  issued  from  their  short  pipes. 
Both  were  young  men,  of  about  twenty-eight  or  twenty- 
nine  years  of  age.  In  appearance  they  presented  a 
marked  contrast.  The  one  possessed  naturally  a  rich 
olive  complexion,  which  now,  at  the  close  of  summer, 
was  swarthy  from  frequent  exposure.  His  countenance 
was  thoughtful,  and  the  air  of  dignity  which  it  carried 
sufficiently  compensated  for  the  irregularity  of  its 
lines.  A  large  mouth,  shaded  partially  by  a  jet  black 
moustache,  firmly  set  lips  occasionally  disclosing  a 
glistening  set  of  teeth,  a  square  chin  and  a  massive 
lower  jaw,  gave  to  his  face  a  cast  of  resoluteness 
which  his  friends  claimed  was  an  outline  of  his  char 
acter.  Rich  brown  eyes,  in  which  a  deep  intelligence 
shone,  relieved  his  face  of  what  would  otherwise  have 
been  an  air  of  severity  ;  and  at  times,  the  tenderness 
of  their  expression,  or  the  merry  humor  flashing  from 
their  depths,  repelled  the  suspicion  of  asceticism. 
While  scarcely  handsome,  his  whole  countenance  im 
pressed  one  with  the  belief  that  Maurice  Graham  was 
a  man  of  action,  of  decision  ;  and  the  refined  features 
bespoke  the  gentleman,  consorting  strangely,  however, 


U  THE   SHADOW  OF    THE   WAR. 

but  for  the  time  and  place,  with  his  apparel.  In  his 
shirt  sleeves,  with  a  broad-brimmed  straw  hat  perched 
upon  his  head,  and  wearing  a  loose  pair  of  brown 
trowsers,  he  rested  on  his  side,  his  head  supported  by 
one  arm,  and  watched  the  smoke  curling  up  from  his 
pipe. 

Similarly  attired  and  engaged  was  his  companion, 
whose  light  hair  and  blue-gray  eyes  marked  him  of  a 
widely  divergent  temperament.  His  face  was  reddened 
by  the  sun,  but  possessed  so  amiable  a  cast  that  the 
observer  could  easily  have  imagined  its  owner  a  favor 
ite  with  both  men  and  women.  Like  Graham,  he  was 
of  medium  height,  the  former  being  slightly  the  taller. 
Their  well-proportioned  figures,  and  the  easy  and 
graceful  attitudes  in  which  they  lay,  attested  to  that 
robust  physical  development  which  is  the  outcome  of 
a  good  constitution  and  active  open-air  sports. 

In  the  bottom  of  the  boat  was  a  small  quantity  of 
fish  which  had  been  caught  during  the  day.  Maurice 
Graham  and  Edward  Gravoir  had  left  the  city  of  Car- 
rollton  early  that  morning,  in  the  former's  yacht,  to 
seek  a  favorite  fishing-ground  some  distance  up  the 
coast ;  and  having  spent  the  day  in  enjoyment  of  the 
sport,  the  boat's  bow  had  been  turned  homewards. 

Somewhat  wearied  by  the  exercise  and  intense  heat 
of  the  day,  they  were  now  quietly  taking  an  after- 
dinner  smoke.  The  easy  motion  of  the  boat  perhaps 
increased  their  lazy  contentment  with  the  hour,  some 
time  having  elapsed  since  any  words  had  been  ex 
changed  ;  and  the  silence  was  disturbed  only  by  the 
gentle  rippling  of  the  water  around  the  boat's  bow,  or 
by  some  unusual  clatter  as  the  negro  washed  the  plates 
and  tins. 


A    FISHING  EXCURSION.  15 

Suddenly  the  voice  of  the  man  at  the  helm  broke 
upon  the  air  : 

"We'se  gittin  'long  purty  slow,  ain't  we,  Mars 
Maurice  ? " 

Receiving  no  answer,  the  negro  queried  : 

"  Is  yer  sleepin',  sah  ?  " 

"  No,  Caesar,"  replied  Graham,  aroused  from  his 
revery.  "  What's  the  matter?  " 

"  Dere  is  bery  little  wind  blowin'.  Don't  yer  tink 
we  be  movin'  bery  slow  fur  sich  a  long  way  as  we  is 
from  home  ? " 

"  Oh  !  Is  that  all  ?  Well,  I  guess  we  can't  help 
ourselves.  Don't  be  impatient,  Caesar  ;  we'll  get  home 
bye-and-bye."  And  as  if  the  matter  was  finally  settled, 
Graham  turned  over  and  resumed  his  pipe  and  revery. 

Some  minutes  passed,  when  Caesar's  voice  again 
disturbed  the  silence  : 

"  Fur  lors  a'  mussy  sakes  !  Mars  Maurice  !  do  git 
up  and  look  ober  yonder  !  Jes'  look  !  It's  gwine  ter 
blow  like  de  bery  ole  Satan  hissef  'fo'  night." 

Roused  this  time  by  the  decided  emphasis  of  the 
negro's  voice,  both  the  young  men  turned  and  looked 
towards  the  northeast.  Rising  up  from  the  horizon  was 
an  irregular  pyramid  of  black  clouds  ;  the  sky  over 
head,  however,  was  still  clear,  and  the  sun  was  baking 
fiercely  on  their  heads.  But  in  a  moment  they  knew 
well  what  was  at  hand  ;  they  were  too  accustomed  to 
the  tornadoes  of  their  coast  at  this  season  of  the  year 
not  to  realize  fully  the  meaning  of  that  leaden  bank 
against  the  sky.  The  breeze  had  almost  died  away, 
there  being  now  barely  enough  to  give  the  slightest 
motion  to  the  yacht,  and  the  air  was  oppressively 
sultry.  Immediately  they  all  grasped  the  situation, 
B 


16  THE   SHADOW  OF    THE   WAR, 

and  each  man  knew  that  they  must  be  ready  to  receive 
the  squall  when  it  came,  or  the  boat  might  be  swamped 
by  the  first  gust.  In  a  moment  Maurice  Graham  had 
thrown  off  his  lethargy,  and  appeared  the  captain  of  the 
party  by  tacit  consent.  With  a  light  easy  step,  he  was 
quickly  at  the  rudder. 

"This  water  will  be  jumping  high,  directly,"  said 
Ned  Gravoir,  anxiously  scanning  the  clouds.  "  What 
will  you  do,  Maurice  ?" 

"  Caesar  and  I  will  stay  in  the  sternsheets  ;  you  and 
Sam  manage  the  sails.  Clear  away  those  ropes  from 
the  pump  ;  we  shall  need  it,"  answered  Maurice,  as  he 
coolly  blew  away  some  ashes  from  his  pipe. 

"  Mars  Maurice,"  asked  Caesar,  "  is  yer  gwine  to  run 
afo'  de  win'  ? " 

"Yes,  straight  away  down  to  South  Island.  It's 
our  best  chance.  Take  in  a  couple  of  reefs,  Ned, — 
lively  !  " 

"  Well,  den,  'fo'  de  Lord,  we'se  got  a  chance  ter 
do  some  swimmin',"  muttered  Caesar,  between  his 
teeth,  as  he  rolled  up  his  sleeves  ;  "but  it  won't  be  de 
fust  time." 

"  Aye  !     aye  !  "  sung  out  Ned.     "  All's  ready." 

And  well  it  might  be  ;  for  a  minute  afterward  a 
sharp  streak  of  lightning  darted  across  the  northern 
sky  ;  then  followed  a  terrific  crash  of  thunder,  and  the 
frightened  gulls  shrieked  in  alarm  as  they  hastily  sought 
the  shore. 

Away  off  in  the  distance  there  was  for  a  minute  or 
two  a  low  rumbling,  gradually  increasing,  broken  at 
short  intervals  by  peals  of  thunder.  On,  on,  it  came  ; 
a  sudden  gust  bathed  their  faces  in  a  delicious  cool 
ness,  and  passed  rapidly  by  ;  it  was  only  the  advance- 


A    FISHING  EXCURSION. 


guard  of  the  coming  fury.  Now  again  only  the  low 
rumbling  was  heard,  and  now  —  but  ah  !  the  boat  gives 
a  shiver,  as  if  at  last  she  too  were  frightened.  In  a 
moment  the  fierce  northeast  wind  has  seized  her  in  its 
grasp,  and  she  plunges  madly  as  if  seeking  to  escape 
its  vengeance.  The  foam  begins  to  play  around  the 
bow,  as  she  dashes  headlong  forward.  Every  rope  is 
now  taut,  and  the  boat  careens  low  on  one  side  as  the 
sails  fill  out  with  the  wind.  Each  of  the  men  instinct 
ively  compresses  his  lips,  and  crouches  closer  at  his 
post  of  duty.  As  yet  the  vessel  feels  only  the  wind  ; 
and  with  her  slender  mast  bending.  under  the  strain, 
the  little  craft  quivers  as  her  bow  cleaves  the  waters. 
The  waves  have  hardly  had  time  to  roll  themselves  up 
in  full  size,  but  as  they  pile  one  upon  the  other,  their 
height  grows  greater  each  minute.  Yonder  in  the 
wake  comes  that  black  wall  of  water,  looking  as  though 
it  would  engulf  the  little  vessel  in  its  ugly  bosom. 
Closer  it  draws,  and  towers  high  above  them  ;  the  stern 
of"  the  sloop  is  seized,  and  it  seemed  that  the  pon 
derous  mass  was  falling  and  would  scatter  the  timbers 
far  and  wide.  The  negroes  held  their  breath  ;  but  the 
wheel  moved  lightly  in  Maurice's  hand,  and  the  boat's 
bow  swerved  a  point  as  she  rose  unhurt  upon  the  crest. 

But  now  the  white-caps  follow  in  quick  succession, 
growing  taller  each  time  ;  and  as  the  gale  deepens,  the 
boat  seems  in  almost  constant  danger  of  being  swal 
lowed  up. 

"Stand  by  to  lower  the  mainsail  !  "  cried  Graham. 

"  Aye  !  aye  !  "  sung  Ned,  and  directly  the  sail  came 
rattling  down.  In  its  fall  the  boat  lost  her  head  for  a 
minute,  and  a  wave  dashed  over  the  deck,  drenching 


18  THE   SHADOW  OF    THE    WAR. 

the  men  and  half  filling  the  open  hold.  Rapidly  the 
sail  was  secured,  and  the  two  men  set  vigorously  to 
work  at  the  pump.  Another  such  wave  would  swamp 
them. 

With  only  a  jib  flying,  the  yacht  scudded  along. 
The  wind  howled  and  the  spray  flew  wildly  around. 
How  long  this  gale  would  last,  they  knew  not ;  but 
each  man  felt  that  any  error  on  Maurice's  part  would 
send  them  all  below  ;  for  to  be  upset  in  such  a  mass  of 
seething  waters  meant  death.  That  so  small  a  boat 
could  live  amid  such  a  tumult,  seemed  marvelous  ;  it 
was  only  because  her  management  was  in  the  care  of  a 
man  inured  from  childhood  to  similar  experiences,  and 
whose  unflinching  nerve  nothing  could  disturb. 

They  had  run  along  rapidly  for  some  time,  and  were 
nearing  the  upper  channel.  Now,  with  a  huge  wall  of 
water  towering  around  them,  and  then  lifted  high  on  the 
top  of  a  billow,  the  "  Ella"  held  her  course  nobly,  and 
seemed  to  defy  the  storm.  No  words  had  been  spoken 
between  the  men,  and  they  hardly  heeded  the  lapse  of 
time,  so  constant  was  their  peril.  The  whole  sky  was 
now  of  a  leaden  color,  but  Maurice  noted  that  night 
was  drawing  nigh.  In  shore,  they  could  define  the 
sand-bar  which  guarded  the  entrance  to  Carrollton 
harbor,  by  the  more  distinct  line  of  foam  and  the  tu 
multuous  breaking  of  the  waves.  Darkness  gradually 
grew  upon  the  waste  of  raging  waters,  and  away  off 
glimmered  the  light  on  South  Island.  Now  it  was  lost, 
as  they  sank  low  in  the  sea,  and  then,  as  the  "  Ella  " 
rose  up  high,  its  rays  fell  out  cheerily.  Could  they 
reach  opposite  that  point,  safety  was  assured  ;  for  then 
it  would  be  an  easy  matter  to  run  into  one  of  the  nu- 


A   FISHING  EXCURSION.  19 

merous  inlets.  Maurice  knew  the  locality  well,  and 
with  the  aid  of  the  light-house,  he  felt  certain  of  the 
course.  Steadily  the  light  grew  larger  ;  now  they  were 
opposite,  and  then  the  boat  darted  swiftly  past,  and 
left  the  beacon  in  its  wake.  Over  yonder  to  the  west 
they  could  hear  the  surf  as  it  madly  pounded  the 
beach.  To  be  thrown  up  there  on  such  a  night  would 
be  destruction.  Maurice  looked  back  at  the  light,  and 
kept  the  boat  straight  on.  As  he  was  anxiously  en 
deavoring  to  make  out  the  course  in  the  darkness,  the 
boat  suddenly  ceased  jumping,  the  jib  flapped,  and  the 
next  instant  the  keel  sank  deep  in  a  mud-bank.  Al 
most  before  they  were  aware,  the  boat  had  run  down 
the  inlet  and  into  the  cove. 

To  throw  out  the  anchor  and  secure  the  jib  was  the 
first  work.  The  yacht  and  its  crew  were  now  safe,  and 
the  excitement  of  danger  was  gone.  The  actual  peril 
once  over,  they  scarcely  gave  any  heed  to  the  storm, 
save  to  grumble  at  the  prospect  of  remaining  all  night 
in  such  an  unpleasant  situation.  These  men  had  long 
been  accustomed  to  like  adventures,  and  they  rather 
experienced  a  keen  pleasure  in  being  raced  along  by  a 
squall.  Still,  in  the  hands  of  any  but  a  skilled  man, 
the  yacht  would  probably  have  foundered  that  after 
noon.  As  it  was,  the  men  were  soon  engaged  in  mak 
ing  themselves  comfortable.  In  a  locker  were  bread, 
meat,  and  matches;  a  lantern  was  lit,  and  the  little  party 
grouped  together  near  the  wheel  to  eat  their  supper. 
It  was  not  long  afterwards  before  the  two  negroes  had 
picked  out  the  softest  planks  on  deck,  and  were  sound 
asleep.  The  party  had  left  the  city  early  that  morning, 
and  they  were  all  tired.  Maurice  and  Ned.  remained 


20  THE   SHADOW  OF    THE   WAR. 

some  time  smoking  and  talking,  wondering,  as  they 
usually  did  on  such  occasions,  what  the  folks  at  home 
would  think  At  last  they  also  fell  asleep  ;  and  all  night 
long  the  wind  shrieked,  and  the  little  lantern  tied  to 
the  wheel  twinkled  its  solitary  flame  in  the  intense  dark 
ness. 


CHAPTER   III. 

THE  FISHERMEN'S  LUCK. 

NEXT  morning,  daylight  was  just  appearing  in 
the  east,  when  Gravoir's  voice  rang  out 
sharply : 

"  Maurice  !  wake,  man,  wake  !  There's  a  steamer 
on  '  Dead  Man's  Shoals.'  " 

Gravoir's  voice  was  powerful,  and  as  he  had  used  it 
with  its  full  force,  the  sleepers  were  up  in  an  instant. 
Looking  in  the  direction  mentioned,  they  could  see  by 
the  dim  light  of  early  dawn  a  large  steamship  aground 
on  one  of  the  most  dangerous  reefs  along  the  coast. 
This  reef  is  a  portion  of  the  bar,  and  lies  close  to  the 
south  channel,  some  little  distance  northeast  of  the 
lighthouse.  Its  direction  is  very  irregular,  running  in 
places  almost  across  the  channel,  and  making  the  change 
from  deep  water  to  shoals  very  precipitate.  In  addi 
tion,  the  currents  around  the  reef  are  always  powerful, 
rendering  it  an  unsafe  locality  even  in  good  weather. 
Numerous  vessels  had  met  their  end  in  its  treacherous 
embraces,  having  run  ashore  only  to  be  broken  up  ; 
and  as  many  lives  had  been  lost  there  because  of  the 
difficulty  of  reaching  a  stranded  vessel  when  the  seas 
were  tempestuous,  the  place  had  received  its  dismal  but 
significant  appellation.  On  the  previous  night,  guided 
by  the  lighthouse,  Maurice  had  run  the  sloop  some  lit 
tle  distance  outside  of  these  shoals. 

(21) 


22  THE   SHADOW  OF   THE   WAR. 

The  steamer  was  certainly  in  a  dangerous  position. 
The  four  men  realized  at  once  that  she  must  soon  be 
relieved  from  the  strain  to  which  she  was  being  sub 
jected  on  the  shoals,  or  else  it  was  only  a  question  of 
time  that  she  would  go  to  pieces.  Perhaps  her  plight 
had  not  as  yet  been  observed  by  the  keeper  of  the 
lighthouse  ;  at  all  events,  they  knew  that  with  his  little 
skiff  he  could  give  no  relief.  It  was  easy  to  under 
stand  that  no  communication  would  be  had  with  the 
steamer  unless  they  went  to  her,  or  she  could  hold 
together  until  her  distress  was  perceived  by  a  pilot 
during  the  morning.  So,  without  a  second's  thought, 
they  all  agreed  to  board  the  vessel,  although  it  was  an 
undertaking  of  some  danger,  not  knowing  in  what 
depth  of  water  she  lay,  nor  whether  the  yacht  might 
not  be  broken  up  in  the  attempt.  But  they  had  day 
light  and  a  good  boat,  and  it  was  just  such  excitement 
as  they  relished.  Besides,  they  all  felt  it  their  duty  to 
render  what  assistance  they  could. 

The  wind  had  now  considerably  abated,  but  the 
waves  were  still  running  high.  The  sky  was  heavily 
overcast,  and  rain  threatened  to  fall  at  any  moment. 
Dead  Man's  Shoals  were  a  mass  of  foam  and  boiling 
waters  ;  and  from  the  men's  position  on  the  yacht,  the 
enormous  waves  could  be  seen  breaking  over  the  hap 
less  steamer.  The  "  Ella  "  was  quickly  pushed  off  the 
bank,  and  under  a  close-reefed  sail  the  yacht  sped  rap 
idly  on  her  mission  of  relief.  A  few  tacks  brought 
them  pretty  close  to  the  steamer.  Evidently  they  had 
been  observed,  for  a  flag  was  run  up  at  half-mast.  Not 
wishing  to  get  his  boat  aground  also,  Maurice  took  a 
number  of  tacks,  which  carried  the  yacht  all  around 
the  vessel,  until  finally  they  decided  that  it  was  safest 


THE   FISHERMEN'S  LUCK.  23 

to  board  her  on  the  southeast  quarter,  the  only  danger 
on  that  side  being  the  risk  of  thumping  to  pieces 
against  her  hull.  Close  up  the  yacht  ran,  and  the 
moment  she  was  alongside,  down  rattled  the  sails,  and 
around  spun  the  httle  craft,  jumping  and  pitching  in 
the  deep  surges  as  though  she  was  impatient  to  be  gone. 
But  as  soon  as  her  headway  had  been  stopped,  one 
negro  cast  over  her  side  some  fenders  as  protection 
from  the  steamer,  while  Caesar's  powerful  arm  tossed 
aboard  the  little  anchor,  which  was  immediately 
seized  by  the  crew.  By  this  time  a  rope  had  been  cast 
from  the  steamer,  which  Ned  made  fast,  and  in  a  very 
few  minutes  the  yacht  was  secured.  The  whole  manoeu 
vre  was  quickly  and  brilliantly  accomplished  ;  and 
directly  after  the  two  young  men  were  clambering  up 
the  vessel's  side  and  talking  to  the  captain. 

"Yes,  sir,"  said  the  latter,  "  ship's  in  a  bad  fix,  and 
men  scared.  But  if  I  can  get  two  tugs  down  here 
within  a  couple  of  hours,  we  might  pull  her  offt  We 
might,  but  I  can't  say  how  deeply  she's  grounded. 
Ugly  scrape  !  Blew  last  night  like  blazes.  Worst  I 
ever  saw  !  All  along  the  coast,  storm  was  terrific. 
When  did  we  arrive  ?  An  hour  or  so  before  daylight, 
with  ship  leaking  badly,  so  I  thought  I  had  better  run 
in.  And  here  I  am  stuck  !  All  the  boats  except  one 
washed  away,  and  things  began  to  look  gloomy." 

"  But  what  can  we  do  for  you  ?"  asked  Maurice. 
"  Have  you  any  passengers  aboard  ?" 

"  Just  going  to  speak  of  them,"  replied  the  captain. 
"  Have  a  gentleman,  his  wife  and  daughter.  They 
were  plucky  enough  last  night,  but  running  aground  is 
too  much  for  'em.  Deuced  bad  scared  now,  they  are, 
and  one  of  'em's  sick,  too.  Can't  you  take  'em  up  to 


24  THE   SHADOW  OF    THE   WAR. 

the  city  ?  No  telling  what  might  happen,  you  know. 
Best  to  be  on  safe  side.  Will  send  chief  mate  with 
you  also,  and  he  can  hunt  up  tugs.  Eh  ?  Suits  you  ?" 

"Perfectly,"  responded  Maurice;  "get  them  ready 
as  soon  as  possible." 

"  All  right, — I'll  bring  'em  up  at  once  ;  they'll  be 
mighty  glad  to  leave,"  and  the  captain  dived  below 
decks. 

Indeed,  the  situation  was  one  to  excite  the  appre 
hension  of  even  those  accustomed  to  the  dangers  of  a 
seafaring  life.  The  steamer  was  firmly  grounded  ;  her 
bowsprit  and  wheel-house  were  blown  away,  and  every 
wave  as  it  rolled  up  broke  in  a  mass  of  hissing  foam 
across  her  forward  decks. 

After  a  short  time,  the  captain  and  his  three  passen 
gers  emerged  from  the  saloon  stairway,  and  the  latter 
were  hastily  introduced  to  the  two  young  men  as  Mr.  and 
Mrs.  Gildersleeve  and  daughter.  The  ladies,  in  partic 
ular,  seemed  very  glad  to  leave  the  steamer  ;  and  after 
some  delay,  with  the  aid  of  a  number  of  sailors,  their 
transfer  was  safely  effected.  A  moment  more,  and  the 
yacht's  sails  were  spread,  the  ropes  were  cast  off,  and 
away  the  "  Ella  "  dashed,  but  not  before  she  had 
received,  in  spite  of  Maurice's  careful  management, 
one  severe  thump  against  the  steamer,  thoroughly 
drenching  both  crew  and  passengers. 

The  attention  of  the  two  young  men  had  been  so  com 
pletely  occupied  by  their  duties,  that  they  had  scarcely 
noticed  their  new  acquaintances,  except  to  courteously 
acknowledge  the  captain's  off-hand  introduction.  The 
yacht  was  now  bounding  along  toward  the  south  chan 
nel  ;  and  making  everything  trim,  Maurice  took  occasion 
to  glance  again  at  his  passengers.  Mr.  Gildersleeve  was 


THE  FISHERMEN'S  LUCK.  25 

tenderly  supporting  his  wife,  a  small  and  fragile  woman, 
who  seemed  greatly  overcome  by  the  situation.  Ned 
and  the  mate  were  in  the  waist,  exchanging  their  expe 
riences  of  the  previous  night  ;  and  the  two  negroes 
lolled  in  the  bow,  very  glad  indeed  to  be  approaching 
home.  Maurice  was  steering,  and  on  his  right  sat  the 
young  lady,  at  whom  he  glanced  for  the  first  time.  As 
he  looked,  he  was  impressed  by  the  almost  perfect  con 
tour  of  her  face,  and  the  delicate  chiseling  of  its  fea 
tures.  "  'Tis  exquisitely  moulded,"  was  his  first  thought ; 
and  the  next,  "  but  it  is  the  face  of  a  haughty  woman  ; 
she  lacks  feeling."  Her  stature  was  above  medium, 
and  she  sat  gracefully.  Her  head  was  well-shaped,  but 
was  rather  small  for  her  size  ;  the  mouth  and  chin  were 
faultless.  He  could  not  see  her  eyes  well.  As  she  sat 
looking  over  the  water,  her  face  was  expressionless. 
Her  complexion  was  soft  and  smooth,  very  fair,  but  it 
possessed  no  decided  color,  although  not  pale. 

"  You  must  have  had  a  trying  night,  Miss  Gilder- 
sleeve,"  ventured  Maurice. 

"Yes,  indeed,"  replied  the  lady,  turning  her  gaze 
toward  him,  rather  timidly,  as  he  thought,  for  the  self- 
contained  woman  he  had  imagined  her.  ""  It  was  a 
fearful  night,  such  as  I  hope  never  to  experience  again. 
It  was  all  the  worse  for  mother,  as  her  health  is  very 
wretched.  The  doctors  thought  that  a  sea  trip  would 
benefit  her  ;  but  I  am  afraid  the  storm  has  done 
her  a  great  deal  of  harm." 

The  girl's  voice  was  peculiarly  sweet,  so  sweet  that 
Maurice  was  induced  to  look  again  into  the  pair  of 
deep-blue  eyes  that  had  now  turned  gratefully  towards 
his  own.  Then  for  the  first  time  he  noticed  a  faint 
tinge  of  sadness  upon  her  features.  "  Surely  I  am  mis- 
2 


26  THE   SHADOW  OF    THE    WAR. 

taken,"  he  queried  ;  "  there  must  be  something  beneath 
that  hauteur."     But  recollecting  himself,  he  said  : 

"  Let  us  hope  not.  With  this  wind  we  will  reach 
the  city  in  an  hour,  and  there  your  mother  can  receive 
the  attention  she  needs.  I  trust  that  your  experiences 
have  not  overcome  you  also  ? " 

"  Oh,  no,"  she  replied,  with  a  bright  cheery  smile 
that  lit  up  her  whole  face.  "  I  am  strong,  and  not 
timid,  I  hope.  But  of  course,  until  you  came,  I  felt 
very  anx — " 

Here  a  sudden  gust  of  wind  interrupted  the  speaker, 
and  Maurice's  attention  was  momentarily  diverted. 
When  he  looked  again,  she  was  endeavoring  to  secure 
a  mass  of  soft  yellow  hair  that  had  become  loosened, 
and  with  which  the  wind  was  wantonly  playing.  At 
last  she  controlled  it ;  and  with  the  faintest  bit  of 
color  mounting  her  cheek,  she  apologetically  re 
marked  : 

"  A  shipwrecked  woman  hasn't  the  most  favorable 
opportunities  for  her  toilet." 

Her  voice  was  so  sweet,  her  smile  so  amiable,  and 
there  was  such  a  frank  and  innocent  expression  in  her 
large  eyes,  that  Maurice  thought  her  exquisitely  lovely 
as  she  sat  there  with  that  wealth  of  hair  streaming 
around  her  shoulders. 

By  this  time  the  bar  had  been  safely  crossed,  and, 
bowled  along  by  a  stiff  east  wind,  the  yacht  was  rapidly 
running  up  the  harbor.  Maurice  pointed  out  a  num 
ber  of  noted  points  to  his  passengers  ;  but  on  nearing 
the  city,  rain  began  to  fall,  effectually  stopping  any 
conversation.  As  the  boat  was  approaching  the  city 
front,  Maurice  addressed  Mr.  Gildersleeve. 


7 HE  FISHERMEN'S  LUCK.  27 

"  I  suppose,  sir,  that  you  desire  to  go  to  some 
hotel  ?  " 

"  Certainly.  Will  we  be  able  to  go  up  at  once,  do 
you  think  ?" 

"  Yes ;  we  will  land  you  at  the  steamer's  pier,  and 
if  no  carriages  are  present,  I  will  send  a  man  for 
one." 

"  Thank  you,  my  good  friend.  I  am  sure  we  are 
deeply  indebted  to  you,  and  can  never  forget  your 
kindness  of  this  morning." 

"  It  really  does  not  amount  to  anything,  sir,"  but 
instinctively  he  turned  towards  Miss  Gildersleeve. 

"  And  I  feel  very  grateful  to  you  and  your  friend," 
murmured  she. 

"That  is  more  reward  than  our  services  deserve," 
answered  Maurice  ;  at  which  she  seemed  a  trifle  con 
fused,  and  both  looked  away. 

In  a  few  minutes  more,  the  yacht  ran  alongside  the 
pier,  and  the  passengers  were  landed.  A  carriage  was 
soon  procured,  and,  after  some  hand-shaking,  they 
separated,  the  strangers  to  seek  the  hotel,  and  the 
young  men  their  homes. 

Leaving  the  care  of  the  boat  to  the  negroes,  the  two 
friends  walked  up  the  wharf,  answering  the  questions 
asked  them  by  the  usual  crowd  of  loungers  concerning 
the  stranded  steamer.  As  soon  as  they  were  alone, 
Gravoir  glanced  at  his  companion. 

"  Well,  Maurice,"  said  he,  "  I  guess  our  friends  are 
anxious  about  us.  Quite  an  unusual  turn  our  fishing 
excursion  had,  eh  ?" 

"  Yes,  quite  so,"  was  the  rather  abstracted  reply, 
followed  after  a  little  interval  of  silence  by  the  ener 
getic  remark  :  "  Confound  these  old  duds  !  I  wish  we 


28  THE   SHADOW  OF    THE   WAR. 

hadn't  had  them  on  !  Those  people  must  have  thought 
us  an  outlandish  set." 

"  Nonsense,  man ;  we  never  dress  up  to  go  fishing, 
and  we  always  take  the  back  streets  going  home." 

Then  there  was  a  long  silence,  during  which  they 
traversed  several  blocks,  when  Gravoir  again  ex 
claimed  : 

"  I  declare,  Maurice,  after  such  excitement  you  are 
exasperatingly  quiet.  And  to  think  of  rescuing  such 
a  beautiful  woman  from  the  jaws  of  death  !  Are  you 
tired,  old  fellow  ?  " 

"  Not  in  the  least.  Yes,  she  is  a  lovely  girl.  You 
must  meet  me  this  evening  and  we  will  call  on  them  at 
the  Carrollton  Hotel.  We  can  at  least  send  up  our 
cards.  It's  only  proper,  you  know." 

"  Why,  of  course  it  is.  Good-bye,  here's  my  cor 
ner,"  and  each  went  his  way,  to  assure  his  friends 
of  his  safety. 


"  They  must  be  gentlemen,"  said  Miss  Gildersleeve, 
rather  warmly. 

Some  hours  had  elapsed  since  the  arrival  of  the 
strangers  at  the  hotel ;  and  having  been  made  comfort 
able  in  commodious  apartments,  the  father  and  daugh 
ter  had  been  discussing  the  events  of  the  past  day. 

"  Yes,  I  am  sure  they  are  gentlemen,"  continued 
the  young  lady.  "  Didn't  they  say  they  had  been  out 
fishing  ?  That  is  doubtless  why  they  had  on  such 
rough  clothes." 

"  They  certainly  seem  well-bred  men,"  returned  her 
father.  "  But  I  doubt  very  much,"  he  added,  smiling, 


THE  FISHERMEN'S  LUCK.  29 

"  if  they  belong  to  the  boasted  aristocracy.  Amateurs 
would  hardly  be  such  expert  boatmen." 

"  How  courteously  they  bowed  acknowledgement  of 
our  thanks  !  Can't  you  remember  their  names,  father  ?" 

"  I  have  quite  forgotten  them  ;  but  I  will  certainly 
hunt  the  young  men  up  to-morrow." 


CHAPTER    IV. 

A  SOCIAL   DUTY   PERFORMED. 

Sunday  morning  of  the  Gildersleeves'  arrival 
J.  proved  dismal  indeed,  the  rain  falling  with  a 
steady  and  monotonous  pit-pat  that  certainly  was  not 
enlivening.  The  bad  weather,  however,  was  of  little 
consequence  to  them  ;  for  after  the  late  excitement  of 
danger  and  sudden  safety,  a  day  of  rest  and  tranquillity 
was  almost  a  necessity.  Mrs.  Gildersleeve's  condition 
imperatively  demanded  a  period  of  absolute  quiet ;  the 
strain  upon  her  had  been  severe,  and  the  physician, 
summoned  soon  after  their  arrival  at  the  hotel,  had 
prescribed  a  bed  and  a  darkened  room. 

The  afternoon  was  now  well  advanced,  and  Mr. 
Gildersleeve  and  his  daughter  were  sitting  in  one  of 
their  rooms.  He  occupied  a  comfortable  chair  near  a 
window,  and  seemed  buried  in  his  thoughts  ;  while  she 
was  busy  with  her  pen  and  ink  at  a  centre-table. 

"  To  whom  are  you  writing,  Hortense  ?  "  he  asked 
at  last,  after  noticing  that  she  was  rapidly  filling  up 
numerous  sheets  of  paper. 

"  To  Ernest,  father,"  she  replied,  looking  up. 
"  Have  you  any  messages  ?  " 

"  Oh,  no ;  I  was  merely  curious.  I  shall  write  to 
him  myself  soon.  One  would  really  think  you  two 
were  lovers,  you  are  so  devoted  to  each  other." 

The  girl  made  no  answer ;  she  only  smiled  pleas- 

(30) 


A    SOCIAL   DUTY  PERFORMED.  31 

antly,  as  though  her  father's  expression  was  not  dis 
tasteful  to  her,  and  resumed  her  writing. 

At  first  view,  Mr.  Gildersleeve  was  hardly  an  attract 
ive  man,  but  his  features,  if  irregular,  were  strongly 
marked  and  expressed  those  traits  of  character  which 
always  command  respect  and  secure  confidence.  He 
was  perhaps  some  years  beyond  the  meridian  of  life, 
but  his  spare  and  sinewy  frame  still  possessed  much 
of  the  vigor  and  elasticity  of  youth.  His  whole  ap 
pearance  indicated  the  shrewd  man  of  business,  whose 
days  had  been  successfully  employed,  and  who  had 
now  reached  a  ripe  maturity  of  years.  The  clear  gaze 
of  his  gray  eye  immediately  arrested  attention  ;  it  dis 
closed  the  careful  calculator,  and  the  large  mouth, 
with  its  firmly-set  thin  lips,  told  unmistakably  that 
there  was  no  excess  of  passion  in  the  man's  nature. 
His  face  was  clean-shaven,  excepting  the  small  side- 
whiskers  which  possibly  contributed  to  the  rather  aus 
tere  cast  of  his  countenance.  His  dress  was  simple, 
but  almost  severe  in  its  scrupulous  neatness,  and  re 
vealed  the  preciseness  of  his  personal  habits. 

Coming  of  a  Puritan  family,  he  possessed  all  the 
stiffness  of  character  and  adherence  to  principle  which 
have  ever  distinguished  that  resolute  class  of  people. 
Sentiment  had  but  a  small  place  in  his  unimpassioned 
nature.  True,  he  was  devotedly  fond  of  his  wife,  and 
of  the  daughter  who  was  his  only  living  child,  and  he 
was  immensely  proud  of  the  latter's  beauty  and  accom 
plishments  ;  but  his  love  for  them  owed  much  of  its 
strength  to  long-continued  habit,  and  certainly  as 
sumed  in  its  open,  manifestation  more  the  form  of  duty 
than  of  impulsive  affection.  Duty,  indeed,  was  the  con 
trolling  motive  of  his  every  action,  and,  together  with 
C 


32  THE   SHADOW  OF   THE    WAR. 

his  great  business  sagacity,  had  so  far  guided  him 
safely  through  the  difficulties  of  life.  He  was  a  very 
just  man  ;  his  compassion  was  not  easily  aroused,  but 
when  moral  obligations  demanded  the  relief  of  suffer 
ing  humanity,  his  exertions  were  prompt  and  energetic, 
nor  were  they  ever  relaxed  until  the  result  was  attained. 
Thoroughly  imbued  with  the  rigorous  doctrines  of  the 
Presbyterian  church,  of  which  he  was  an  active  mem 
ber,  and  deeply  impressed  with  the  necessity,  in  these 
irreligious  days,  of  living  up  to  its  teachings,  his  whole 
life  was  an  exemplar  of  unostentatious  faith  in  God 
and  fair  dealings  with  men.  Intensely  practical,  he 
was  also  a  well  educated  man,  and  thoroughly  alive  to 
the  events  of  the  day. 

He  had  been  a  successful  manufacturer,  in  one  of 
the  many  manufacturing  towns  of  Massachusetts,  and 
had  acquired  great  wealth.  He  still  owned  extensive 
milling  interests,  but  for  some  years  back  he  had  retired 
from  their  active  conduct.  He  had  long  thought,  now 
that  slavery  was  abolished,  that  the  South  afforded  a 
most  inviting  field  for  enterprise,  particularly  for  the 
manufacture  of  cotton  goods.  He  believed  that  the 
raw  material  could  be  worked  much  more  cheaply 
alongside  the  cotton  field,  than  by  a  system  which 
involved  the  expensive  middle-man  and  bulky  trans 
portation.  The  longer  he  dwelt  on  the  subject,  the 
more  practicable  did  it  seem  ;  and  the  reports  given 
of  the  great  prosperity  of  the  few  factories  already 
established  in  the  South  were  very  encouraging. 

There  was,  however,  one  grave  objection  to  com 
mitting  himself  to  any  such  scheme.  He  was  a  Repub 
lican,  and  had  been  an  ardent  Abolitionist.  The  many 
reports  appearing  in  the  great  Republican  newspapers, 


A    SOCIAL  DUTY  PERFORMED.  33 

of  the  ungenerous  treatment  experienced  by  Northern 
men  who  took  up  residences  in  the  South,  made  him 
pause.  The  comfort  and  happiness  of  his  wife  and 
daughter  were  to  him  matters  of  anxious  solicitude. 
He  would  abandon  any  project,  however  tempting  it 
might  be,  should  it  conflict  with  their  welfare.  If 
these  reports  were  true,  there  could  be  no  happiness 
for  him  or  his  in  such  a  land.  Socially,  he  was  not 
much  concerned  about  his  wife,  as  her  life  was  that  of 
an  invalid  ;  but  it  would  be  unjust  to  Hortense,  now 
on  the  very  threshold  of  womanhood,  to  remove  her 
from  all  past  associations,  from  the  friends  of  her 
youth,  only  to  place  her  among  a  people  so  intolerant, 
so  blinded  by  sectional  hate,  that  they  would  ostracize 
the  daughter  on  account  of  the  political  affiliations  of 
the  father. 

Mr.  Gildersleeve  conscientiously  believed  in  the  truth 
fulness  of  the  reports  which  reached  him  of  the  condition 
of  the  South.  The  journals  which  published  these  reports 
stood  high  in  the  estimation  of  the  Northern  public  ; 
moreover,  they  tallied  with  his  conception  of  the 
Southern  character.  He  had,  it  is  true,  met  very  few 
Southern  men,  even  before  the  war.  His  knowledge  of 
them  was  obtained  from  others.  He  had  always  looked 
upon  the  Southerner  as  a  man  of  extreme  arrogance 
and  self-conceit,  who  prided  himself  upon  his  ancestry 
and  considered  his  race  far  superior  to  his  Northern 
brethren.  In  this  view,  Mr.  Gildersleeve  was  correct, 
when  it  applied  to  the  predominant  class  of  ante-bel 
lum  society.  He,  like  many  others,  forgot  that  the  war 
had  greatly  limited  the  influence  of  that  class,  and  that 
a  New  South,  a  new  generation,  was  springing  up, 


34  THE   SHADOW  OF    THE   WAR. 

whose  ideas  and  feelings  were  very  different  from  the 
Old. 

The  political  troubles  of  the  South  subsequent  to 
the  war  increased  his  prejudices.  The  tales  of  cruelty 
and  bloodshed,  in  which  Kuklux  and  White  Leagues 
figured  largely,  excited  within  him  a  stern  desire  to 
know  that  severe  punishment  had  been  inflicted  upon 
those  men  whose  hands  were  dyed  so  deeply  in  crime. 
He  was  too  sensible  to  believe  that  this  depravity  was 
universal  at  the  South,  but  he  naturally  thought  that 
the  prevailing  sentiment  encouraged  these  outrages. 
When  the  war  closed,  he  expected  the  surrender  of  the 
Confederate  armies  to  end  the  whole  matter  ;  but  when, 
instead,  there  came  reports  of  collisions  between  the 
two  races,  the  negro  being  generally  the  sufferer,  his 
sense  of  justice  cried  out  for  the  enforcement  of  the 
laws  of  his  country.  The  negro  was  now  an  Ameri 
can  citizen,  entitled  to  all  the  rights,  privileges,  and  pro 
tection  which  that  citizenship  confers  ;  and  that  the 
Southerner  should  still  contest  those  rights  by  such 
despicable  methods,  was  clear  proof  of  his  intolerance 
and  -his  rebellious  spirit.  With  his  great  respect  for 
law,  and  his  natural  love  of  justice,  Mr.  Gildersleeve 
could  see  nothing  to  excuse  such  criminal  conduct.  He 
could  not  appreciate  the  difficulty  of  eradicating  a 
prejudice  and  distinction  created  by  slavery  and  the 
difference  in  color.  He  knew  no  prejudices,  no  race 
distinctions,  and  he  could  not  brook  them  in  others. 
Again  did  he  forget  that  the  Old  South  died  hard,  and 
that  the  New  was  yet  scarcely  born. 

For  the  leaders  of  the  Republican  party  in  the 
South,  he  had  much  sympathy.  They  were  martyrs,  in 
that  they  risked  their  lives  in  the  cause  of  liberty. 


A    SOCIAL  DUTY  PERFORMED.  35 

They  had  left  comfortable  homes,  they  had  broken  the 
ties  of  friendship  and  love,  that  they  might  devote 
themselves  to  the  work  of  educating  and  protecting 
the  negroes  from  oppression.  That  here  and  there  an 
unscrupulous  man  might  be  found,  he  did  not  doubt  ; 
but  in  general,  he  held  the  reports  circulated  of  their 
corruption  and  depravity  to  be  false,  and  concocted  by 
their  political  enemies  to  cover  up  the  enormity  of  their 
own  offenses  against  law  and  justice. 

Holding  these  views,  it  is  not  surprising  that  he  hes 
itated  long  before  taking  so  important  a  step  as  to  move 
South  with  his  family.  If  they  were  correct,  then 
it  would  indeed  be  a  fool's  errand.  But  the  scheme 
was  always  uppermost  in  his  mind  ;  there  were  so 
many  reasons  which  concurred  in  making  such  a 
change  advisable,  that  he  could  not  dismiss  it  entirely 
from  his  thoughts.  What  urged  him  on  to  investigate 
the  matter  more  thoroughly  and  decisively,  was  the  dis 
covery  of  the  precarious  condition  of  his  wife's  health. 
Although  she  made  light  of  her  ailment,  and  endeav 
ored  as  much  as  possible  to  conceal  from  him  her  in 
creasing  cough,  it  soon  became  evident  that  she  was 
threatened  with  some  chronic  affection  of  the  lungs. 
The  family  physician  was  consulted,  and  he  pronounced 
a  change  to  a  warmer  climate  absolutely  necessary. 

Mr.  Gildersleeve  then  obtained  the  views  of  friends 
who  had  an  extensive  acquaintance  in  the  South,  con 
cerning  the  best  locality.  Now  that  it  was  necessary, 
for  the  sake  of  his  wife,  to  leave  the  old  home,  he  con 
cluded  that  the  selection  of  his  future  residence  must 
depend  not  only  upon  the  facilities  the  place  offered 
for  carrying  out  his  projects,  but  upon  its  salubrity  as 
well.  Finally,  he  decided  to  go  to  Carrollton,  from 


36  THE   SHADOW  OF   THE   WAR. 

which  point  he  could  better  survey  the  field.  He  pro 
cured  letters  of  introduction  to  several  prominent  men 
of  that  city  ;  and  the  fall  of  the  year  approaching  rap 
idly,  his  arrangements  were  soon  made  for  an  early 
departure,  and  in  the  month  of  September  the  family 
left  New  York  on  board  the  steamship  "  Gate  City," 
arriving  off  Carrolton  harbor  at  night,  to  be  almost 
shipwrecked. 

The  father  and  daughter  had  been  sitting  in  their 
parlor  some  time,  she  busily  writing  and  he  deep  in  his 
thoughts,  when  suddenly  there  was  a  tap  at  the  door, 
and  a  negro  waiter  entered,  bearing  two  cards  on  a 
salver.  Mr.  Gildersleeve  read  the  names  of  Maurice 
Graham  and  Edward  P.  Gravoir. 

"  Is  it  possible,"  asked  he,  "  that  these  are  the  gen 
tlemen  who  brought  us  up  to  the  city  ?  Do  you  know  ?" 
turning  to  the  man. 

"  I  reckons  dey  is,  sah,"  replied  the  latter,  "fur  I 
heard  dem  talkin'  ter  some  genelmans  'bout  de  storm 
las'  night." 

"  Show  them  up  at  once." 

The  waiter  retired,  and  in  a  few  minutes  Maurice 
and  Ned  entered  the  room. 

Very  different  now  was  their  attire  from  that  of  the 
previous  evening, — plain  and  neat,  it  was  in  keeping 
with  that  careful  attention  to  appearance  which  is  ever 
distinctive  of  cultivated  people. 

"  This  is  indeed  very  kind  of  you,  gentlemen," 
exclaimed  Mr.  Gildersleeve,  as  he  cordially  welcomed 
them.  "  It  affords  me  much  pleasure  to  meet  you 
again." 

"  We  feared  that  the  excitement  of  the  storm  might 


A    SOCIAL   DUTY  PERFORMED.  37 

have  had  some  unpleasant  effect  upon  the  ladies,  so 
we  called  to  assure  ourselves  to  the  contrary,"  returned 
Maurice. 

"  Only  temporary,  except  upon  my  wife,  who  is  at 
best  an  invalid.  But  the  physician  thinks  she  will  be 
better  in  a  day  or  two." 

Then  they  sat  down,  and  the  conversation  became 
general.  Miss  Gildersleeve  was  anxious  to  hear  about 
the  steamer. 

"  We  had  our  trunks  sent  up  an  hour  or  two  ago," 
said  she  ;  "  but  what  has  become  of  the  poor  'Gate 
City?' " 

"  Breaking  up  by  this  time,  I  suppose,"  answered 
Maurice.  "  The  tugs  failed  to  pull  her  off  into  deep 
water.  I  understood  that  the  agents  were  discharging 
the  cargo  all  the  morning." 

It  was  not  long  before  much  of  the  natural  reserve 
between  the  strangers  and  their  newly-found  Southern 
friends  was  removed,  and  their  late  association  seemed 
likely  to  pave  the  way  to  a  more  intimate  acquaint 
ance.  Being  so  different  in  many  respects,  they  nat 
urally  regarded  each  other  curiously,  and  noted  differ 
ences  of  manner  aad  speech  that  appeared  very 
novel.  But  the  conversation  proceeded  pleasantly, 
and  the  regret  was  mutual  when  the  young  men  rose 
to  end  their  short  visit. 

As  they  were  about  to  take  their  leave,  Mr.  Gilder- 
sleeve  turned  to  the  centre-table,  and  taking  up  their 
cards,  he  again  looked  at  them  closely. 

"  Is  it  possible,"  asked  he,  "  that  you,  gentlemen, 
are  in  any  way  related  to  Colonel  George  Graham  or 
to  Mr.  Francis  Gravoir  ?" 

"  Why,  the  latter  is  my  eldest  brother,  and  Colonel 


38  THE   SHADOW  OF   THE   WAR. 

Graham  is  my  friend's  father,"  answered  Gravoir,  in 
some  surprise. 

"  Really,  this  is  a  pleasure,  a  delightful  coinci 
dence  1 "  exclaimed  Mr.  Gildersleeve.  "  I  have  letters 
of  introduction  to  both  of  those  gentlemen." 

"  I  can  assure  you  of  a  cordial  reception  from  my 
father,"  answered  Maurice,  no  less  surprised  and 
pleased.  "  He  has  already  heard  of  you  in  connection 
with  our  fishing  frolic.  And  I  know  that  my  sister 
will  be  delighted  to  cultivate  your  acquaintance,"  he 
added,  turning  to  Hortense. 

"  Thank  you,"  said  she,  cordially ;  "  it  is  pleasant 
to  feel  that  we  shall  have  some  other  claim  upon  you 
than  our  obligations." 

Then  the  young  men  took  their  leave,  and  father 
and  daughter  were  again  alone  in  their  parlor. 


CHAPTER     V. 

MR.  GILDERSLEEVE  MEETS  SOME  "  F.  F.  V." 

MR.  GILDERSLEEVE  left  the  hotel  after  break 
fast  the  next  morning,  to  present  his  letters  of 
introduction.  He  experienced  no  difficulty  in  finding 
the  office  of  Messrs.  George  Graham  &  Co.,  and  upon 
inquiring  for  Colonel  Graham,  he  was  shown  into  a 
neatly  -  furnished  private-room,  where  a  middle  -  aged 
gentleman  was  seated  at  a  desk,  engaged  with  the 
morning  mail. 

"Is  this  Colonel  Graham?"  asked  Mr.  Gilder- 
sleeve. 

"Yes,  sir.  Take  a  seat.  Whom  have  I  the  pleas 
ure  of  seeing  ?  " 

"  My  name  is  John  Gildersleeve,  and  I  bring  a 
letter  of  introduction  from  Mr.  Henry  Winslow,  of 
Boston,"  at  the  same  time  presenting  his  letter. 

"Oh!  I  am  very  glad  to  know  you,  sir.  My  son 
told  me  how  he  met  you  Saturday,  under  rather 
adverse  circumstances." 

"  Yes,  we  are  deeply  indebted " 

"  Don't  mention  it !  Those  young  fellows  like 
nothing  better  than  some  adventure  of  the  kind. 
Excuse  me,  please,  while  I  read  this  letter." 

The  Graham  family  had  been  residents  of  Carroll- 
ton  for  a  number  of  generations.  Originally  they 
were  extremely  poor,  holding  no  social  position  among 

(39) 


40  THE   SHADOW   OF    THE   WAR. 

the  very  exclusive  people  of  that  city.  But  the  father 
of  Colonel  Graham  had  proved  himself  a  man  of 
extraordinary  business  capacity,  and  long  before  the 
civil  war  he  had  become  very  rich  in  the  cotton  trade. 
These  business  qualities,  his  fortune,  and  a  matri 
monial  alliance  with  an  old  family,  gave  the  elder  Gra 
ham  a  recognized  position  in  a  community  where  it 
was  the  exception  during  the  slavery  era  for  a  man  to 
rise  above  the  grade  in  which  he  was  born.  His  son 
George  had  been  carefully  educated  ;  and  succeeding 
to  the  business  and  fortune  at  his  father's  death,  he 
had  maintained  and  extended  the  influence  he  inher 
ited.  But  although  his  position  was  undisputed,  there 
was  a  certain  difference,  tacitly  understood  by  all  par 
ties,  between  his  family  and  the  old  aristocracy.  They 
mingled  together,  united  in  the  same  social  pleasures, 
and  were  actuated  by  common  motives.  But  although 
they  dined  and  wined  each  other  freely,  the  original 
condition  of  the  Graham  family  was  never  forgotten 
by  the  haughty  aristocrats.  The  Grahams  had,  of 
themselves,  no  Revolutionary  blood  in  their  veins; 
they  were  nobodies  when  the  early  settlers  were  clear 
ing  these  wild  lands  and  fighting  Indians  ;  and  there 
was  always  an  unexpressed  feeling  that  the  few  nou- 
veaux-riches,  like  the  Grahams,  who  had  entered  the 
higher  ranks  of  society,  were  permitted  to  remain  because 
of  their  personal  qualities. 

But  although  Colonel  Graham  was  not  a  thorough 
bred  aristocrat,  and  did  not  belong  to  the  old  planter 
set,  his  education  and  training  had  combined  to  give 
him  in  many  respects  the  same  political  opinions  that 
were  held  by  the  former  ruling  classes  of  the  South. 
While  he  had  greatly  doubted  the  policy  of  secession, 


MR.  GILDERSLEEVE  MEETS  SOME  UF.  F.  V."  41 

he  always  believed  in  the  justice  of  the  Southern 
cause  ;  and  he  had  stoutly  maintained  that  the  coercion 
of  the  Southern  States  into  the  Union,  and  the  subse 
quent  emancipation  of  the  slaves,  were  acts  of  unjus 
tifiable  usurpation,  and  a  violation  of  constitutional 
limitations.  He  entered  the  Confederate  army,  partic 
ipated  in  the  first  battle  of  Manassas,  and  was  present 
at  the  surrender  of  Appomattox.  Being  a  man  of 
good  common-sense,  he  took  the  oath  of  allegiance 
without  any  mental  reservation,  and  accepted  the  fate 
of  war  as  the  final  settlement  of  a  most  momentous 
question.  He  knew  that  the  results  of  the  struggle 
could  never  be  reversed  ;  and  he  believed,  in  a  matter 
of  fact  way,  that  the  sooner  the  South  abandoned  her 
vain  aspirations  of  the  past,  the  sooner  would  her  peo 
ple  make  the  best  of  a  bad  bargain  and  retrieve  what 
they  had  lost.  After  taking  the  oath  of  allegiance  he 
was  heard  to  say  : 

"  Secession  is  a  dead  issue — dead  forever.  I  firmly 
believed,  and  still  believe,  that  upon  a  fair  construction 
of  the  Constitution  of  the  United  States,  our  States 
had  a  lawful  right  to  secede,  and  that  any  coercion 
tending  to  prevent  the  exercise  of  that  right  was  unjust 
and  revolutionary  ;  yet  henceforth  I  am  a  citizen  of  the 
United  States,  and  will  faithfully  observe  my  oath  of 
allegiance." 

On  returning  home  he  found  that  his  once  princely 
fortune  had  dwindled  to  an  almost  insignificant  amount, 
and  that  what  remained,  consisting  chiefly  of  depreci 
ated  real  estate,  was  barely  enough  to  start  him  in  bus- 
iress  again.  But,  unlike  many  of  his  bluer  blooded 
associates,  who  quietly  sank  under  their  misfortunes, 
the  necessity  for  exertion  seemed  to  develop  in  him 


42  THE  SHADOW  OF    THE   WAR. 

the  qualities  that  had  distinguished  his  father  ;  and  by 
dint  of  hard  work,  economy,  and  financial  skill,  he  had 
already  partially  recovered  his  wealth,  and  by  this  time 
his  prominence  in  commercial  circles  was  completely 
regained.  Socially,  as  one  of  the  few  men  who  had 
survived  the  war,  his  position  was  stronger  than  ever. 

When  Colonel  Graham  finished  reading  the  letter, 
he  said,  with  a  smile  of  welcome  : 

"  It  gives  me  great  pleasure,  Mr.  Gildersleeve,  to 
meet  any  friend  of  Harry  Winslow.  He  and  I  have 
been  friends  for  years.  We  were  chums  at  Yale,  and 
our  friendship  is  still  maintained  by  an  occasional  cor 
respondence,  even  though  we  differed  in  politics,  and 
fought  against  each  other." 

"Yes,"  answered  the  Northerner,  "Winslow  spoke 
of  you  as  an  old  friend,  and  I  was  very  glad  to  pre 
sent  his  letter." 

"I  infer,"  continued  Colonel  Graham,  "from  what 
he  says,  that  you  propose  to  locate  among  us  and  estab 
lish  a  factory  for  cotton  goods." 

"  Well,  yes;  that  is,  I  want  to  investigate  the  matter; 
but  the  permanency  of  my  stay  will  depend  on  circum 
stances." 

"  Whether  or  not  the  enterprise  can  be  made  profit 
able  ? "  ventured  Colonel  Graham. 

"  Yes,  on  that,and  the  improvement  in  the  health'  of 
my  wife,  who  is  an  invalid.  Besides,"  looking  hesita 
tingly  at  his  host,  "  there  will  be  social  and  political 
conditions  to  consider." 

"  In  what  way  ?  "  asked  Colonel  Graham,  as  though 
he  had  not  fully  understood. 

"Oh,  you  know  I  am  a  Northern  man." 

"  Well  ? " 


MR.   GILDERSLEEVE  MEETS  SOME  "F.  F.  V."  43 

"And  a  Republican  in  politics."  This  was  uttered 
in  that  tone  of  quiet  emphasis  that  men  of  decision 
naturally  assume  when  they  approach  a  subject  that  is 
unpleasant  but  unavoidable. 

Colonel  Graham  could  not  refrain  from  laughing. 
"  I  see  what  your  trouble  is,"  he  exclaimed.  "  Like 
many  other  Northern  people,  you  think  that  the  enmi 
ties  of  the  war  are  still  burning  in  our  -hearts.  Well, 
we'll  soon  clear  away  that  illusion  over  my  dinner 
table." 

"  But  you  must  bear  in  mind,"  returned  Mr.  Gilder- 
sleeve,  "  that  my  political  sentiments  and  affiliations  are 
entirely  different  from  those  of  your  people.  I  am  a 
Republican,  have  always  been  a  steadfast  opponent  of 
slavery,  and  because  I  have  come  South  I  can  not 
change  my  republicanism  into  democracy." 

"  My  dear  sir,"  exclaimed  Colonel  Graham,  "we  do 
not  care  a  fig  for  your  politics  !  That  narrow,  intole 
rant  spirit  which  prevailed  immediately  before  and 
after  the  war,  exists  now  only  to  a  limited  extent,  at 
least  in  the  cities,  and  is  growing  less  every  day.  We 
all  vote  the  Democratic  ticket,  it  is  true,  and  bitterly 
oppose  the  Republican  party  and  its  policy  toward  the 
South,  because  that  party  does  not  accord  us  the  just 
and  generous  treatment  which  a  humane  conqueror  is 
bound  by  the  law  of  equity  and  honor  to  bestow  on  its 
fallen  foe.  You  Northerners  err  in  supposing  that  these 
feelings  extend  to  individuals.  No  one  here  will  ever 
question  your  politics,  and  if  you  come  to  develop  our 
resources,  our  people  will  welcome  you  all  the  more 
gladly.  But,"  added  Colonel  Graham,  with  a  peculiar 
smile,  "  before  you  have  been  here  a  year,  you  will  be 
as  firm  a  Democrat  as  I  am.  And  that  change  will 


44  THE   SHADOW  OF    THE   WAR. 

not  be  the  result  of  any  bulldozing  or  intimidation  ; 
you  will  be  forced  by  your  own  sense  of  justice  and  the 
instincts  of  humanity,  to  support  the  Democratic  ticket, 
— at  least  in  local  affairs." 

Gildersleeve  only  smiled  in  answer.  That  he,  who 
from  childhood  had  been  taught  faith  in  the  Republi 
can  party,  who  had  so  long  believed  that  the  party  and 
its  predecessors  were  the  exponents  of  liberty,  progress, 
and  of  everything  that  conduces  to  make  this  country 
the  land  of  freedom  to  all  who  seek  its  shores  ;  that  he 
would  ever  renounce  the  political  opinions  of  his  whole 
life,  was  a  statement  too  ridiculous  for  consideration. 
So,  with  native  politeness,  he  only  smiled  incredu 
lously,  which  was  instantly  perceived  by  Colonel 
Graham,  who  continued  in  explanation  : 

"  What  I  have  said  seems  very  absurd,  no  doubt ; 
but,  as  I  understand  from  Mr.  Winslow's  letter,  you 
have  never  before  been  in  the  South,  and  therefore 
have  never  seen  for  yourself  the  actual  condition  of 
affairs.  Next  year,  at  the  general  election,  the  Demo 
crats  propose  to  recover  control  of  the  State,  if  possi 
ble  ;  and  I  venture  to  assert  that  if  you  are  here  then 
you  will  vote  with  me  for  the  Democratic  candidate  for 
governor,  freely  and  of  your  own  volition,  driven  to 
the  step  by  the  strongest  impulses  of  your  nature." 

"Well,  well,  we  shall  see."  Gildersleeve  smiled 
again,  and  inwardly  hoped  that  this  Southerner,  who 
seemed  so  genial  in  other  respects,  was  not  going  to 
force  his  politics  upon  him  already. 

"  And  now  about  the  factory,"  said  Colonel  Graham. 
"  I  see  that  Winslow  refers  to  me  as  one  who  can  in 
form  you  about  our  natural  advantages.  While  I  am  not 
prepared  to  speak  decisively  on  the  subject  now,  yet  I 


MR.  GILDERSLEEVE  MEETS  SOME  "F.  F.  V."  45 

believe  such  a  scheme  as  yours  would  be  profitable, 
perhaps  even  more  so  than  at  the  North.  As  soon  as 
you  have  settled  down,  I  will  gladly  place  myself  at 
your  service,  and  I  hope  you  will  make  my  office  your 
headquarters.  We  can  easily  find  you  desk-room." 

"  Thanks  ;  I  will  accept  with  pleasure.  By  the  way, 
can  you  tell  me  anything  about  a  small  town  called 
Belleville  ?  Winslow  mentioned  it  as  a  desirable  place 
of  residence  in  the  present  condition  of  my  wife's 
health." 

"  Yes,  it  is  a  quiet  little  country  place,  about  fifteen 
miles  from  the  city,  with  excellent  railroad  facilities. 
It  is  a  very  popular  resort  for  invalids  from  Carrollton. 
Your  physician  can  advise  you  on  the  subject." 

Some  inquiries  concerning  Mrs.  Gildersleeve's 
health  naturally  followed,  and  then  the  conversation 
drifted  around  to  the  shipwreck  of  the  previous  day. 
Several  merchants  entered  the  office,  to  whom  Mr. 
Gildersleeve  was  introduced.  They  greeted  him 
warmly,  and  expressed  great  pleasure  when  they  heard 
of  the  cotton-factory  scheme. 

At  last,  when  Mr.  Gildersleeve  was  leaving,  he 
asked:  "You  know  Francis  Gravoir,  a  lawyer?  I 
have  also  a  letter  for  him  from  Winslow.  Can  you  di 
rect  me  to  his  office  ? " 

11  Certainly  ;  I  will  take  you  there,  '  replied  Graham, 
and,  despite  the  Northerner's  protests,  the  two  were 
soon  on  the  streets. 

They  walked  along  leisurely,  chatting  about  the 
city,  Colonel  Graham  pointing  out  various  objects  of 
interest.  Suddenly  the  latter  stopped  in  front  of  an 
open  lot  whereon  some  massive  pillars  alone  remained 
to  tell  of  the  building  that  once  graced  the  spot. 


40  THE   SHADOW  OF    THE    WAR. 

"  Here  stood  the  hall,  the  remains  of  which  5-011  see, 
where  assembled  that  celebrated  convention  which 
passed  the  ordinance  of  secession,  withdrawing  this 
State  from  the  Union,  and  striking  the  first  blow  at  the 
Federal  government.  The  men  who  composed  that 
convention  are  almost  all  dead,  and  the  fiery  scourge 
has  swept  the  building  from  the  face  of  the  earth,  leav 
ing  only  these  unsightly  ruins  to  show  where  it  once 
stood." 

Gildersleeve  gazed  for  a  few  moments  in  silence,  as 
if  impressed  by  the  sight ;  then,  turning  to  his  com 
panion,  he  continued  in  the  same  strain  : 

"  It  is  indeed  a  sad  remembrance  of  the  past  and 
of  much  that  was  once  bitter.  But  may  we  not  learn 
that  the  cause  which  was  conceived  in  this  hall,  and 
given  birth  at  Montgomery,  was  not  destined  to  live 
and  flourish  ? — that  as  the  building  has  been  removed 
by  the  flames,  and  will  probably  be  replaced  by  a  finer 
structure,  so  the  cause,  dear  as  it  might  have  been  to 
its  supporters,  has  been  lost  only  to  be  succeeded  by  a 
more  substantial  and  enduring  government  !  " 

"We  will  hope  so,  at  least,"  returned  Colonel  Gra 
ham,  briefly. 

A  walk  of  a  few  minutes  more  brought  them  to  their 
destination,  and  Mr.  Gildersleeve  was  introduced  to 
Francis  Gravoir,  and  to  his  father,  General  Pierre  Gra- 
voir.  The  latter  was  a  tall,  pompous  old  gentleman, 
who  wore,  in  place  of  the  usual  modern  collar,  the  high 
stiff  stock  of  a  now  almost  forgotten  fashion,  and  who, 
in  reply  to  the  introduction,  extended  his  hand,  say 
ing  :  "  Mr.  Gildersleeve,  I  am  honored,  sir  !  " 

A  very  pleasant  conversation  followed,  in  which  the 
prospects  of  the  factory  scheme  were  discussed. 


MR.  G1LDERSLEEVE  MEETS  SOME  "F.  F.  V."  47 

The  Gravoirs  were  of  an  old  Huguenot  family  that 
settled  in  Carrollton  many  years  before  the  Revolution. 
Driven  from  France  by  religious  persecution,  they 
sought  the  New  World,  to  enjoy  their  convictions  in 
peace.  At  that  time  Carrollton  was  a  small  and  desti 
tute  colony;  and,  like  the  rest  of  its  people,  the  Gra 
voirs  were  poor  and  obliged  to  wrest  from  their  wild 
surroundings  the  necessaries  of  life.  But  men  who 
would,  for  religion's  sake,  abandon  their  homes  in  a 
civilized  country,  and  risk  the  uncertainties  of  life  in 
an  unknown  land,  must  possess  enough  force  of  char 
acter  to  overcome  other  obstacles.  Such  men  do  not 
yield  quietly  to  trials  and  deprivations.  Theirs  is  a 
patient,  enduring,  ever  active  nature,  which  steadily 
forces  its  way  through  forest  and  thicket,  and  across 
foaming  currents,  never  yielding  and  only  resting 
when  its  labors  have  secured  safety  and  a  home. 

Such  were  the  original  members  of  the  Gravoir 
family;  and  after  some  years  of  hardship,  their  efforts 
had  rendered  them  comfortable.  They  engaged  in 
trade  with  the  Indians,  buying  of  them  the  native 
products,  which  were  sold  in  Europe  at  an  immense 
profit,  and  soon  they  controlled  the  largest  business  in 
the  colony.  The  family  obtained  a  grant  of  land 
along  the  coast,  and  before  the  original  members  of 
the  American  branch  had  died,  they  were  possessed  of 
considerable  wealth.  Succeeding  generations  settled 
down  on  their  plantations,  and  owning  numerous 
slaves,  they  led  the  lives  of  Southern  planters,  veritable 
princes,  though  on  a  petty  scale.  The  family  grew 
steadily  in  importance,  and  its  members  played  a  most 
distinguished  part  in  the  war  of  the  Revolution,  and 
for  many  years  later  their  position  and  influence  in 

b 


48  THE   SHADOW  OF    THE   WAR. 

the  Carrollton  community  had  been  inferior  to  none. 
At  the  time  of  our  story,  there  were  three  generations 
living:  General  Gravoir;  his  sons,  of  whom  Francis 
was  the  eldest;  and  the  latter's  children. 

The  old  General  was  a  genuine  Southern  planter, 
in  his  manners,  his  ideas,  and  his  education.  Although 
extremely  polished  and  courteous,  his  bearing  was 
haughty,  and  revealed  a  thorough  appreciation  of  his 
own  importance,  which  not  even  the  loss  of  wealth  had 
diminished.  Accustomed  from  early  life  to  have  his 
every  command  obeyed,  his  imperious  nature  and  hot 
temper  often  concealed  his  really  good  mind,  and 
made  him  appear  as  a  provincial  bigot.  Frequently, 
to  his  own  dismay,  his  impetuosity  would  treacherously 
leave  him  in  positions  which  his  sober  moments  con 
demned  as  unreasonable.  He  was  educated  and 
intelligent,  yet  on  subjects  affecting  his  peculiar  inte 
rests,  such  as  slavery  and  the  other  institutions  and 
ideas  of  his  section,  he  was  deeply  imbued  with  the 
prejudices  and  intolerance  of  the  old  Southerner.  He 
conscientiously  upheld  the  divine  appointment  of 
slavery,  and,  under  humane  limitations,  he  believed  it 
just  and  proper  that  the  inferior  should  serve  the 
superior  race  as  its  slaves.  He  warmly  supported  the 
doctrine  of  State  sovereignty,  and  obstinately  refused 
to  admit  that  the  question  was  even  susceptible  of 
doubt.  Among  the  first  to  raise  his  voice  in  support 
of  secession,  he  was  sent  as  a  delegate  to  the  conven 
tion  called  to  consider  the  situation;  and  exhibiting 
there  all  the  vehemence  and  animation  of  his  char 
acter,  he  insisted  in  the  most  impassioned  oratory 
upon  the  immediate  passage  of  the  famous  ordinance. 
He  regarded  any  opposition  as  unreasonable  and 


MR.  GILDERSLEEVE  MEETS  SOME  «F.  F.  V."  49 

unpatriotic.  When  the  war  ended,  he  found  himself 
a  poor  man,  and  almost  dependent  on  his  sons  for 
subsistence. 

Francis  Gravoir  inherited  many  of  his  father's 
qualities,  but  in  him  they  were  softened  by  a  truer  ex 
perience  of  the  world  as  it  is  to-day.  He  was  less 
vehement,  less  illiberal,  less  bitter  against  the  North. 
When  the  war  ended,  he  too  was  poor;  but  he  was  still 
young,  had  an  honorable  profession,  and  knew  that  he 
could  depend  on  enough  practice  for  a  support, — facts 
which  went  a  long  way  to  lessen  the  sting  of  poverty 
and  to  bring  about  forgetfulness  of  its  cause.  As  the 
reverses  of  war  had  not  left  him  so  completely  help 
less  as  they  did  his  father,  it  was  natural  that  he  should 
have  less  of  that  irreconcilable  antipathy  to  the  new 
order  of  things;  and  after  once  more  getting  a  start  in 
life,  he  accepted  his  changed  condition  with  a  good 
grace.  He  had  now  built  up  an  excellent  practice, 
and  he  possessed  that  which  a  true  lawyer  covets  most, 
the  confidence  of  the  community.  He  was  known  to 
be  conscientious.  In  politics  he  was  conservative. 

When  John  Gildersleeve  returned  to  the  hotel,  he 
was  weir  pleased  with  the  day's  experience.  He  had, 
of  course,  expected  polite  treatment;  but  the  warmth 
of  his  welcome,  the  invitations  pressed  upon  him  by 
these  Southerners,  and  their  hearty  approval  of  his 
projects,  were  rather  a  surprise.  His  fear  now  was  that 
upon  a  more  extended  acquaintance,  there  would  be  a 
clash  of  opinions,  and  a  lack  of  congeniality  on  social 
and  political  issues  that  would  be  fatal  to  friendship. 
And  these  fears  he  did  not  fail  to  express  to  his  wife 
when  narrating  to  her  the  incidents  of  the  day. 


CHAPTER   VI. 

THE   REMOVAL  TO   BELLEVILLE. 

A  WEEK  or  more  had  passed  since  the  arrival  of 
the  Northerners  in  Carrollton.  Mrs.  Gilder- 
sleeve  continued  very  feeble,  and  her  physician  advised 
that  she  should  be  removed  at  an  early  date  to  Belle 
ville.  The  air  of  Carrollton  did  not  tend  to  lessen  her 
troublesome  cough;  being  under  the  immediate  influ 
ence  of  the  ocean,  it  possesses  that  peculiar  salty  flavor 
common  to  seaside  localities,  and,  with  the  excess  of 
moisture  which  it  contains,  is  liable  to  prove  extremely 
irritating  to  a  weak  lung.  So,  after  some  deliberation 
as  to  whether  he  should  remain  in  the  state  or  go  on  to 
Florida,  Mr.  Gildersleeve  determined  to  follow  the 
physician's  advice  for  a  time  at  least,  and  then,  if  his 
wife  did  not  improve  in  Belleville,  he  would  travel 
farther  south.  He  was,  in  fact,  rather  anxious  to  pur 
sue  the  former  course,  because,  living  so  near  to  Car 
rollton,  he  could  enjoy  all  the  commercial  facilities 
which  that  city  might  offer  for  the  prosecution  of  his 
business  plans. 

The  small  town  of  Belleville  lies  on  a  sandy  soil, 
somewhat  elevated  above  the  surrounding  swampy 
regions,  and  comprises  a  great  variety  of  cottages 
placed  irregularly  in  a  thick  pine  forest.  The  houses 
are  almost  all  of  wood,  without  even  the  least  preten 
sion  to  architectural  beauty;  and  excepting  the  broad 

(60) 


THE  REMOVAL    TO  BELLEVILLE.  51 

piazzas  and  halls,  so  common  to  Southern  dwellings, 
there  is  scarcely  any  uniformity  in  their  structure. 
Each  man  has  evidently  gratified  his  own  taste,  and 
sought  comfort  after  his  own  notions.  Certainly,  no 
one  could  justly  claim  that  there  is  any  beauty  about 
the  village.  The  views  in  every  direction  are  monoto 
nous  in  the  extreme.  One  glimpse  of  the  interminable 
pines  and  the  glistening  white  sand  shows  the  observer 
how  well  the  irony  of  fate  may  sometimes  be  illus 
trated  in  the  selection  of  a  name.  Possibly  its  early 
settlers,  like  the  father  of  Tristam  Shandy,  believed  in 
the  influence  of  names,  and  designed  to  secure  a 
glorious  future  for  the  home  of  their  progeny.  If  so, 
present  appearances  certainly  stamped  the  attempt  a 
dismal  failure.  How  the  incubus  of  such  a  misnomer 
had  ever  fallen  on  the  unobtrusive  corporation,  is  a 
profound  mystery  to  the  oldest  inhabitant. 

But  if  the  place  lacks  beauty — even  if  the  houses 
are  old,  mostly  shabby,  and  dreadfully  in  need  of  fresh 
paint, — its  pure  and  invigorating  atmosphere  seems  to 
give  a  new  life  to  the  invalids  who  seek  its  genial  influ 
ence.  Though  the  malarial  poison  is  prolific  in  the 
swamps  not  many  miles  away,  yet  in  this  pine  barren 
the  poor  sufferer  finds  that  comfort  which  all  the  doc 
tors'  skill  and  drugs  can  not  afford.  The  town  had  been 
first  settled  by  the  surrounding  planters  because  of  the 
healthiness  of  the  locality.  During  some  hot  months 
it  is  highly  dangerous  for  a  white  man  to  remain  after 
sunset  on  a  plantation  ;  only  the  pine  barrens  are  safe. 
Thus  Belleville  gradually  grew  up  into  a  straggling 
unostentatious  village,  like  a  collection  of  comfortable 
farm-houses,  which  supplied  convenient  summer  resi 
dences  for  the  neighboring  planters. 


52  THE   SHADOW  OF   THE   WAR. 

In  obedience  to  the  physician's  advice,  Mr.  Gilder- 
sleeve  early  explained  his  need  to  a  real  estate  agent. 
Unfortunately,  but  few  houses  had  been  built  in  Belle 
ville  since  the  war,  when  a  number  were  destroyed. 
The  reputation  of  the  place  as  a  health-giving  resort, 
while  justly  grounded,  was  quite  local  to  the  sea-board 
of  the  State,  and  consequently  there  had  been  no  rush 
of  travel  to  stimulate  its  growth.  Mr.  Gildersleeve  found 
it  very  difficult  to  procure  a  suitable  residence.  There 
were  only  three  houses  that  could  be  obtained,  of  which 
two  were  not  at  all  desirable.  The  third  was  large,  and 
prior  to  the  war  had  been  considered  the  most  elegant 
structure  in  the  town.  Some  years  back,  the  owner 
had  had  it  repaired  ;  but  very  strangely,  as  it  seemed 
to  the  town,  after  occupying  the  house  for  a  few  nights 
with  his  family,  he  had  hastily  vacated  the  premises. 
When  questioned  concerning  his  sudden  removal,  he 
merely  answered,  with  a  shrug  of  his  shoulder,  that  his 
wife  did  not  fancy  the  dwelling  ;  and  soon  after  it  was 
advertised  for  rent.  As  the  residence  was  apparently 
quite  desirable,  a  tenant  was  easily  found.  Strange  to 
say,  however,  a  similar  result  ensued.  Only  two  weeks 
had  elapsed  when  the  people  moved  out  bag  and  baggage. 
The  tenant,  not  owning  the  house,  had  no  particular 
inducement  to  remain  quiet,  and  he  immediately 
announced  that  on  no  account  would  his  family  stay  in 
that  house  another  night ; — not  that  he  was  foolish 
enough  to  believe  in  ghosts  and  that  sort  of  stuff  ; 
bless  your  soul,  sir,  not  a  bit  of  it  ;  but  then  there  was 
certainly  something  wrong  about  this  house  that  he 
could  not  explain.  The  place  immediately  became 
marked  ;  and  henceforth  Belleville  had  what  it  did  not 
before  possess — a  haunted  house.  The  negroes  of  the 


THE   REMOVAL    TO  BELLEVILLE.  53 

town  talked  a  good  deal  about  the  matter  ;  their  super 
stitious  imaginations  soon  created  numerous  stories,  in 
which  midnight  demons  were  the  main  feature,  and 
there  was  scarcely  a  negro  in  the  village  who  would 
willingly  come  alone  down  that  road  late  at  night. 
The  story  to  which  they  gave  most  faith  was  briefly 
this  : 

During  the  war,  the  house  was  occupied  by  an  old 
lady  of  family  and  wealth,  whose  ruling  passions  were 
her  love  for  her  only  son  and  her  money.  This  son 
held  the  rank  of  an  artillery  captain  in  the  Confeder 
ate  service,  and  was  killed  in  one  of  the  first  battles. 
Report  said  that  the  old  lady  barely  survived  the  shock  ; 
but  to  outward  appearance  she  only  lived  more  to  her 
self,  until  finally  she  was  seen  by  very  few  people,  and 
the  most  horrible  tales  were  told  about  her  parsimony 
and  her  cruelty  to  her  slaves.  One  night  the  village 
doctor  was  hastily  summoned,  and  next  morning  the 
town  was  startled  to  hear  that  the  old  lady  and  a  young 
negro  girl  had  been  burnt  to  death.  At  the  inquest, 
the  negroes  living  on  the  premises  were  the  only  wit 
nesses.  They  stated,  as  was  known  before,  that  their 
mistress  was  miserly  to  the  last  degree,  and  seemed 
always  to  be  possessed  by  a  morbid  fear  of  her  servants' 
extravagance.  She  would  unhesitatingly  resort  to  the 
most  severe  punishment,  "to  cure  them  of  wasting 
things."  According  to  the  evidence,  it  appeared  that 
a  negro  girl  had  lit  two  candles  on  the  fatal  evening, 
while  attending  to  some  work.  Observing  this,  the  mis 
tress  angrily  exclaimed  that  she  would  stop  such  waste  ; 
and  seizing  the  girl's  hands,  held  their  palms  over  the 
flames.  The  terrified  slave  stood  the  torture  until  the 
agony  was  unbearable,  and  in  the  struggle  that  ensued 


54  THE   SHADOW  OF    THE   WAR. 

the  cotton  garments  of  the  girl  and  the  muslins  of  the 
mistress  became  ignited.  When  the  other  servants 
rushed  in,  the  two  were  senseless.  It  was  the  work  of 
a  few  minutes  to  extinguish  the  fire,  but  when  the  fam 
ily  physician  arrived  the  old  lady  and  her  slave  were 
beyond  recovery. 

This  was  the  story  which  the  negroes  whisperingly 
told  each  other  about  the  house.  Report  said  that  the 
two  would  appear  at  night  in  the  room  where  the  trag 
edy  occurred,  and  that  the  shrill  mocking  laugh  of  the 
one  would  re-echo  through  the  apartments  as  her  slave 
shrieked  for  mercy.  Certainly  the  experiences  of  the 
two  families  who  afterwards  occupied  the  house  seemed 
to  lend  a  color  of  truth  to  these  reports  ;  the  tenant 
openly  spoke  of  the  dismal  sounds  that  had  appalled 
his  wife  and  children.  At  all  events,  the  house  was 
looked  upon  as  doomed,  and  for  several  years  had 
remained  tenantless. 

When  the  agent  made  his  report  to  Mr.  Gildersleeve, 
he  frankly  stated  to  him  these  facts. 

"  Pshaw  !  "  answered  the  latter  ;  "  is  the  house  really 
a  good  one  in  other  respects  ?" 

Being  assured  that  it  was,  he  procured  the  keys, 
and  next  morning  went  to  Belleville  to  look  at  the  prop 
erty. 

The  dwelling  was  a  large  one,  of  some  ten  spacious 
rooms,  and  located  in  a  lot  of  several  acres  containing 
many  pine  and  oak  trees.  On  the  ground  floor  was 
the  basement,  and  above  this  were  piazzas  to  the  front 
and  rear  of  the  house,  having  broad  stairways  to  com 
municate  with  the  yard.  An  avenue  of  red  oak  bor 
dered  the  pathway  which  led  to  the  gate  opening  on 
the  road,  but  here  and  there  a  tree  was  gone,  making 


THE   REMOVAL    TO  BELLEVILLE.  55 

an  unsightly  gap.  Around  the  house  stood  enough 
trees  to  give  it  a  shelter,  which  was  very  grateful  in 
summer.  At  one  gable  grew  an  immense  oak  that  was 
especially  beautiful,  twining  and  curving  its  numerous 
branches  in  a  really  curious  and  fantastic  fashion. 
Around  this  tree  had  sprung  up  a  luxuriant  growth  of 
ivy,  which  shot  its  vines  boldly  along  the  limbs, 
encroaching  on  the  windows  and  even  on  the  roof, 
giving  a  rather  odd  appearance  to  that  side  of  the 
house. 

A  half  hour's  inspection  satisfied  Mr.  Gildersleeve 
that  the  place  would  suit  him.  The  outbuildings,  sta 
ble,  kitchen,  were  excellent,  and  he  thought  a  little 
repairing  would  render  the  house  quite  comfortable. 
That  afternoon  he  had  effected  a  lease,  and  next  day  a 
force  of  workmen  went  to  Belleville,  much  to  the 
astonishment  of  the  people,  "  to  fix  up  the  old  house 
for  some  Yankees."  At  the  same  time  an  order  was 
given  to  a  house-furnishing  establishment,  a  carriage 
and  a  pair  of  horses  bought,  servants  engaged,  and  in 
ten  days  after  leasing  the  house  the  family  moved 
there.  Mr.  Gildersleeve's  healthy  mind  had  in  a 
moment  dismissed  as  nonsense  the  story  told  him  by 
the  agent  ;  but  he  knew  the  timidity  of  women,  par 
ticularly  the  natural  nervousness  of  a  sick  woman,  and 
so  had  refrained  from  repeating  the  gossip  to  his  wife 
or  daughter.  "  The  house  is  the  only  one  to  be  had," 
he  thought,  "  and  as  it  is  a  good  one  it  would  be  fool 
ish  to  allow  such  superstition  to  influence  me.  If  I 
say  nothing  to  them,  they  will  be  perfectly  happy." 

The  family  arrived  at  Belleville  in  the  afternoon, 
and  found  their  carriage  awaiting  them  at  the  depot. 
The  drive  to  the  house  was  a  short  one,  but  full  of 


56  THE   SHADOW  OF   THE   WAR. 

expectation  to  Hortense,  who  was  anxious  to  have  a 
view  of  the  town  where  she  might  live  for  a 
long  time  ;  and,  in  truth,  it  must  be  told  that  she  was 
considerably  disappointed  by  her  first  impressions. 
They  left  the  carriage  at  the  gate,  and  as  Hortense 
walked  slowly  up  the  gravelly  path,  she  looked  anx 
iously  about  her  to  find  something  that  was  cheering. 
But  the  trees  were  all  she  could  see  to  admire.  She 
knew  her  father  would  expect  some  expression  of  opin 
ion,  and  so,  for  want  of  a  less  commonplace  remark, 
she  said  : 

"  What  a  large  place  it  is  !  " 

"  Yes,  somewhat  more  than  we  need,"  answered 
Mr.  Gildersleeve,  who  was  assisting  his  wife  to  the 
house.  "  I  hope  you  will  not  tire  of  living  here,  Hor 
tense." 

"  Oh,  no  !  We  shall  be  very  happy  in  this  quiet 
town,  if  mother  only  gets  back  her  health.  And 
what  with  long  drives  in  the  woods,  and  country  air, 
country  milk  and  butter  and  eggs,  and  all  those  things, 
you  know,  mamma  dear,  you'll  soon  be  strong  again," 
said  the  daughter,  as  she  bent  over  and  tenderly  kissed 
the  invalid.  Then  for  the  first  time  Hortense  noticed 
the  tree  with  its  ivy  beside  the  house,  and  she  ex 
claimed  : 

"  What  a  huge  tree  !  I  never  saw  one  so  big, 
before  !  " 

"  Yes,  it's  large  enough — too  large,  in  fact.  I  have 
been  thinking  of  cutting  away  some  of  those  branches  ; 
they  must  make  the  house  damp." 

"  Then,  father,  I  cry  emphatically  :  '  Woodman, 
spare  that  tree  ! '  It  is  really  too  noble  to  feel  the  axe. 
Now,  father,"  she  continued,  with  a  quizzical  express- 


THE  REMOVAL    TO    BELLEVILLE.  57 

ion  on  her  face,  as  her  parents  stopped  to  rest  by  the 
steps,  "  if  I  were  only  as  sentimental  as  you  sometimes 
want  me  to  be,  I  would  have  a  glorious  time  wander 
ing  among  these  trees  and  reading  Tom  Moore." 

"  I'm  afraid,  Hortense,  that  if  Ernest  hasn't  been 
able  to  arouse  some  sentiment  in  you,  these  trees  will 
not,"  he  answered,  dryly. 

A  few  minutes  after  their  arrival,  when  the  ladies 
had  gone  to  their  rooms,  the  negro  man,  who  had  been 
engaged  as  coachman,  approached  Mr.  Gildersleeve, 
and  said  in  a  mysterious  manner  that  he  desired  to 
have  a  few  words  with  him  in  the  hall.  Nodding  an 
assent,  Mr.  Gildersleeve  followed. 

"  I  say,  boss,  I'se  been  tole  dat  dis  yar  house  is 
hanted  right  smart.  I  hear  dat  dere  is  an  ole  lady  what 
burns  people  wid  candles  !  " 

"  Who  told  you  that  nonsense,  my  man  ?  " 

"  'Tain't  no  nonsense,  boss,  'scusin'  me,  sah,  it's  de 
fac'  truf,  as  de  whole  town  will  tell  yer.  An'  I  was 
tole  so  agin  dis  mornin'  by  de  cullud  genelman  wot 
hauled  de  wood  fur  de  kitchen." 

"  You  don't  believe  such  stuff  ?  " 

"  Not  b'lieve  in  sperits,  sah  ?  Lorsa'mussy  !  wa'se 
yer  talkin'  'bout,  sah  !  Why,  boss,  I  knows  sebral 
houses  in  Car'llton  dat's  hanted  fur  sartin,  sartin  sure  ! 
My  brudder  was  run  one  night  ober  a  mile  by  a  spent, 
an'  I  is  tole  dat  de  ole  lady  wot  walks  dis  house  has 
pertic'ler  spite  on  niggers,  an'  dat  she  lubs  ter  burn 
dere  han's  wid  candles." 

Mr.  Gildersleeve  had  at  first  felt  inclined  to  smile, 
but  the  speaker's  earnestness  and  warmth  were  too  sin 
cere  to  be  lightly  dismissed.  He  was  not  prepared, 
however,  to  meet  such  extreme  credulity  and  supersti- 


58  THE   SHADOW  OF    THE   WAR. 

tion.  He  was  shocked,  and  was  tempted  to  reason 
with  his  servant.  "  But  no,"  thought  he,  "my  wife  io 
nervous,  and  if  these  negroes  are  allowed  to  talk  freely 
they'll  get  her  excited.  After  all,  there  are  other  super 
stitious  beings  in  the  world  beside  the  negro."  Then 
he  added  aloud  :  "  Now  see  here,  Pompey,  that  story 
is  pure  nonsense,  and  if  any  of  you  people  repeat  it  to 
my  wife  or  daughter,  you  will  all  go.  I  don't  want 
them  to  hear  it  until  they  get  accustomed  to  the  house. 
Do  you  understand  me  ?  " 

The  negro  retired  sulkily.  "  I  wonder  what  de  oder 
niggers  will  do,"  he  thought.  "  Dese  Yankees  pay 
well,  dat's  a  fac',  better'n  mos'  de  white  folks  in  dis  yar 
Ian' ;  but  Jemiminy  !  sposin  de  ole  'ooman  was  fur  ter 
come  fur  sure  !  "  The  darkey  involuntarily  cast  a 
glance  along  the  deserted  hall,  as  though  he  expected 
her  that  very  moment. 

Dinner  was  over,  and  the  several  members  of  the 
family  had  retired  to  their  rooms,  being  tired,  and  hav 
ing  some  personal  affairs  incident  to  the  change  to 
engage  their  attention.  The  servants  had  finished 
their  work,  and  the  house  had  gradually  become  quiet. 
Out  in  the  kitchen,  however,  a  bright  light  burned  ; 
and  inside,  voices  could  be  heard  in  conversation. 
Presently  there  was  a  tap  at  the  door,  which  was  imme 
diately  opened : 

"  Good  ebenin',  Brudder  Tomkins,"  said  the  cook's 
voice,  "  an'  you  too,  Sister  Tomkins  ;  we'se  bery 
glad  you'se  come,  fur  we'se  got  a  drefful  misery  on  de 
brain." 

"  Yes,  sister,  I  knows  how  you  all  is  sitivated," 
answered  the  individual  addressed  as  Tomkins. 
"  Berily,  berily,  de  question  yer  has  ter  discuss  is  a 


THE  REMOVAL    TO  BELLEVILLE.  59 

'mentous  one,  my  sister  ;  yea,  a  'mentous  one,  fur  dis 
yar  place  is  de  campin'-ground  ob  de  ebil  sperit ! " 

The  whole  group  inside  shivered  and  were  silent. 
Perhaps  they  would  have  remained  so  indefinitely,  had 
not  Tomkins,  who  was  decidedly  an  enterprising  man, 
spied  the  remains  of  the  late  dinner. 

"  But,  sister,"  said  he,  "  my  wife  had  a  long  walk,  an' 
I  'spec'  she's  sort  o'  hungry.  Got  anything  ter  eat  ?  " 

"  De  Lord  bress  me,  brudder  !  ef  I  aint  clean  furgit ! 
Whar's  my  manners  gwine  ?  Yes,  jest  sit  yar  at  de 
table  ;  we  had  roas'  beef  an'  chicken.  I  saved  some 
fur  yer.  I  say,  Pomp,  move  sharp  an'  git  de  brudder 
some  fresh  water  from  de  well." 

Tomkins  and  his  wife  needed  no  second  invita 
tion  ;  one  glance  at  the  tempting  viands,  of  which  the 
Gildersleeves  had  partaken,  was  enough  to  give  activity 
to  their  movements,  and  in  a  moment  they  were  at 
home. 

Brother  Tomkins  was  quite  a  character  in  the  town 
of  Belleville,  but  only  such  as  is  often  found  among  the 
colored  population  of  Southern  communities.  His 
natural  shrewdness  gave  him  an  acknowledged  leader 
ship  among  the  blacks,  and  for  some  time  he  had  been 
a  preacher  at  a  small  church.  The  women  particularly 
held  him  in  high  esteem,  which  he  fully  understood 
and  was  quick  to  turn  to  a  profitable  account.  Brother 
Tomkins  never  wanted  a  good  dinner  without  knowing 
where  it  could  be  obtained  ;  and  it  is  safe  to  say  that 
he  wanted  one  quite  often.  Any  one  of  the  women  of 
his  flock  would  willingly  have  sacrificed  her  meal  for 
the  reverend  brother,  and  have  felt  honored  by  his  ac 
ceptance.  Besides  preaching  religion  from  the  pulpit, 
he  also  dealt  out  politics  liberally,  and  among  the 


60  THE    SHADOW  OF   THE    WAR. 

whites  was  known  as  a  dangerous  and  rabid  Radical. 
His  local  influence  among  the  negroes  had  drawn  the 
attention  of  their  white  leaders,  and  these  knew  how 
to  make  him  their  willing  tool.  He  had  immediately 
impressed  upon  the  Gildersleeves'  domestics  his  impor 
tance  in  the  town,  and  it  was  with  much  satisfaction 
that  he  saw  the  prospect  of  obtaining  in  the  future 
many  a  good  meal  from  the  "  Yankees' "  table. 

The  others  in  the  kitchen  were  the  servants  of  the 
household.  Betsy  Green,  the  cook,  was  a  short 
thick-set  woman,  who  sat  industriously  fanning  herself 
and  admiring  her  reverend  visitor.  With  her  sleeves 
rolled  up  above  the  elbows,  and  her  head  bound  in  a 
variously-colored  kerchief,  she  was  a  type  of  the  good- 
natured  simple  African.  Pompey  Singleton  the  man 
servant,  and  Lucinda  Brown  the  housemaid,  also  lent 
their  presence  to  the  gathering ;  but  they  were  evi 
dently  regarded  as  lesser  lights  by  the  visitors. 

"  So  yer  boss  say  dat  yer  mustn't  tell  de  missus 
dat  de  house  is  hanted?"  remarked  the  preacher,  as 
he  poised  upon  his  black  fingers  a  cup  of  fragrant 
tea. 

"  Dat's  jes'  de  bery  words  he  said,"  answered  Pom 
pey. 

"  Hes  dose  white  folks  no  respeck  fur  'emselves,  dat 
dey  is  willin'  to  stay  in  dat  house  ? "  asked  the  cook. 

"  An'  what  did  yer  tell  'um,  Mr.  Singleton  ?  "  queried 
Tomkins,  ignoring  the  last  question. 

"  I  tell  'um,  I  knowed  de  ole  lady  walked  de  house, 
Mr.  Tomkins." 

"  De  ting  is  jest  dis,  brudder,"  said  the  cook. 
"  What  is  we  gwine  ter  do  ?  Gib  up  de  place,  an'  go 
back  to  Car'llton  ?  De  fam'bly  is  small  an'  de  pay  is 


THE  REMOVAL    TO  BELLEVILLE.  61 

good,  so  I  don't  want  ter  gib  mine  up.  What  shell  we 
do,  brudder  ?" 

"  Sister,  yer  sitivation  is  delikit,  delikit,  eben  'men- 
tous,  I  might  say,"  returned  Tomkins  gravely.  "What 
do  yer  tink,  Mr.  Singleton  ?  " 

This  individual  did  not  reply  ;  perhaps  some  gloomy 
forebodings  of  evil  in  the  future  kept  him  silent,  or 
possibly  he  was  a  cautious  man  who  preferred  first  to 
obtain  the  sense  of  the  meeting. 

"  I'se  been  tole,"  chimed  the  chamber  maid,  for  the 
first  time,  and  with  the  least  bit  of  hysterical  agitation, 
"  dat  when  de  ole  lady  screams  yer  can  hear  her  half  a 
mile!  She  hes  on  a  long  white  dress,  an'  ef  eber  yer  sets 
eye  on  her,  you'se  sure  ter  die  afore  de  moon  turns." 

"  Well,  my  brederin,"  said  Tomkins  slowly,  and  as 
suming  his  most  ministerial  air,  "  de  facs  ob  de  case  is 
dese  :  Dat  sperit  ob  de  ole  lady  is  sent  on  airth  by  de 
debbel.  She  was  bery  wicked  in  her  life,  up  ter  all 
kind  o'  debbelment,  so  de  ole  boy  gits  her  when  she's 
dead,  an'  he  sen's  her  back  here  ter  do  his  work. 
Don't  yer  know  how  de  Good  Book  tells  us  dat  de 
debbels  got  inter  de  swine  an'  mek  'em  drown  "em- 
selves  ?  Well,  dat  is  jes'  de  wickedness  dat  dis  ole 
lady  is  pokin'  'round  fur.  De  debbel  sen's  her  up 
here  ter  ketch  souls  fer  him,  an'  ef  eber  she  gits  inter 
yer,  de  Lord  hab  mussy  on  yer  soul  !  You  would  hab 
ter  fight  hard,  my  brudder;  yer  would  hab  ter  pray  in  a 
most  partic'lar  manner,  ye  sinners  ;  yes,  my  sisters,  yer 
would  hab  ter  wrastle  all  night  long  wid  dat  sperit,  as 
ole  Jacob  did,  eben  ter  de  break  ob  day  ! " 

Profound  and  awful  was  the  silence  when  the 
preacher  had  finished.  The  two  women  had  thrown 
themselves  on  their  knees,  and  interrupted  once  or 


62  THE   SHADOW  OF    THE   WAR. 

twice  with  a  fervent  "  amen."  Pompey  had  groaned  : 
"  De  Lord  hab  mussy." 

"  Rise,  sisters,  rise,"  said  Tomkins,  as  the  women 
still  knelt. 

"  Yer  link,  den,  brudder,"  said  the  cook,  as  she 
obeyed,  "  dat  we  better  go  back  to  Car'llton  ? " 

Now  this  was  just  what  the  reverend  brother  did  not 
wish  to  happen  ;  it  was  the  last  plan  he  would  advise. 
He  had  easily  acquired  influence  over  these  servants, 
partly  because  the  cook  happened  to  have  relatives  in 
the  town  who  belonged  to  his  church.  If  they  re 
signed  their  places,  others  would  be  obtained,  and  his 
work  would  have  to  be  done  over  again.  The  Gilder- 
sleeves  had  the  appearance  of  wealth  ;  they  promised 
to  live  well,  and  he  was  sure  of  many  tid-bits  in  this 
kitchen  whose  occupants  he  could  manipulate  so  easily. 
He  quickly  answered  : 

"  Dis  is  a  good  place,  sisters.  Better  be  keerful 
what  yer  do.  'Sposin'  you  all  leave  here  when  yer 
work  is  done,  an'  go  sleep  wid  yer  friens  ?  De  ole  lady 
aint  gwine  ter  hurt  ye  in  de  day  time,  an'  ef  yer  don't 
stay  here  at  night,  you'se  safe  "nouf." 

This  advice  was  received  with  evident  satisfaction 
by  all,  particularly  the  butler.  "  You'se  a  bery  wise 
man,"  said  he,  shaking  the  preacher's  hand. 

They  were  anxious  now  to  depart  at  once,  which 
Tomkins  rather  encouraged,  as  he  had  fully  satisfied 
the  cravings  of  his  inner  self.  There  would  be  no  dif 
ficulty  in  procuring  sleeping  accommodations.  Ne 
groes  are  a  good-natured,  sociable  set  of  people,  who 
have  many  friends  among  themselves,  and  are  capable 
of  developing  an  intimacy  in  a  very  short  time.  They 
mix  with  each  other  quite  indiscriminately  ;  and  it  was 


THE  REMOVAL    TO  BELLEVILLE.  63 

an  easy  matter  for  these  to  find  sleeping  places,  partic 
ularly  as  the  character  of  the  accommodations  was  a 
matter  of  small  importance.  Negroes,  as  a  rule,  are 
much  more  concerned  about  what  they  eat  than  where 
they  sleep,  or,  indeed,  it  might  be  said,  how  little  they 
wear. 

Their  remaining  work  was  speedily  despatched,  and 
very  shortly  the  kitchen  was  closed,  the  only  lights  to 
be  seen  being  those  from  the  upper  rooms  of  the  house. 


E 


CHAPTER  VII. 

"A  MAN'S  A  MAN  FOR  A'  THAT." 

TWO  or  three  weeks  had  elapsed  since  the  establish 
ment  of  the  Gildersleeves  in  Belleville.  During 
that  time  their  household  had  been  arranged,  and  now 
presented  the  appearance  of  a  well-ordered  and  cosy 
home.  The  novelty  of  their  new  life  had  begun  to 
wear  off,  and  they  were  gradually  becoming  accus 
tomed  to  their  surroundings.  At  first  the  good  peo 
ple  of  Belleville  viewed  with  much  curiosity,  and  pos 
sibly  with  a  little  suspicion,  the  presence  of  the  North 
erners  in  their  quiet  town.  It  was,  indeed,  quite  an 
event  in  its  history,  and  very  closely  were  the  strangers 
scrutinized. 

"Are  they  more  carpet-baggers  ?"  was  repeatedly 
asked. 

"No,"  said  the  all-wise  neighbor  Jones,  "I  hardly  think 
so,  for  they  appear  to  be  people  of  means.  I  hear  they 
have  their  house  beautifully  furnished,  and  their  horses 
and  carriage  are  certainly  as  good  as  we  had  before  the 
war." 

"  I  wonder  if  they  are  people  of  family  ? "  asked 
Mrs.  De  Pretoriau,  who  boasted  of  having  lost  an 
ancestor  at  the  massacre  of  St.  Bartholomew. 

"  The  girl  is  deuced  pretty,  awfully  stylish,  and  I 
mean  to  know  her,"  said  young  De  Pretoriau. 

"  Well,  they  are  Yankees,  and  I  think  they  had  bet- 

(64) 


"A    MAN'S  A    MAN  FOR   A'    THAT."  65 

ter  have  stayed  in  their  own  country,"  remarked  old 
Mr.  Tontille,  who  had  lost  three  sons  around  Rich 
mond. 

"  But,  my  dear,"  returned  his  wife,  "  I  hear  the  lady 
is  dying  of  consumption,  and  the  climate  of  the  North 
is  too  cold  for  her." 

"  I  understand  he  wants  to  invest  money  here. 
Well,  after  the  niggers  up  at  the  State  Capital  have  had 
their  fingers  in  his  pockets,  he'll  wish  he'd  never  come." 
Captain  Madson,  the  speaker,  grinned  knowingly. 

Many  and  various  were  the  opinions  held  concern 
ing  the  family,  until  they  had  presented  certain  letters 
obtained  from  their  Carrollton  friends.  The  Grahams 
came  up  one  Sunday  morning,  accompanied  the  Gil- 
dersleeves  to  church,  and  spent  the  day  at  their  house. 
As  if  by  magic,  all  further  doubt  regarding  the  stran 
gers  was  at  once  removed,  and  in  the  course  of  the 
following  week  nearly  the  whole  town  had  called  to  pay 
respects,  many,  doubtless,  through  curiosity. 

"  We  only  waited  that  you  might  get  fixed,"  said 
Mrs.  De  Pretoriau,  which  might  be  interpreted  thus  : 
"  I  could  not  call  until  I  was  sure  of  your  respectabil 
ity.  If  the  Grahams  and  the  Graviors  are  your  friends, 
you  must  be  somebody." 

And  thus  affairs  moved  on.  The  Gildersleeves 
made  many  acquaintances,  and  an  interchange  of  visits 
followed.  On  every  side,  however,  they  were  received 
with  much  formality.  The  people  were  pleasant,  and 
some  seemed  quite  interested  in  Mrs.  Gildersleeve's 
health ;  but  as  yet  the  family  had  received  very  few 
social  attentions,  save  from  their  Carrollton  friends. 
This  stiffness,  Mr.  Gildersleeve  believed  would  wear 
away  in  time  ;  and  he  was  much  pleased  at  the  pros- 


66  THE   SHADOW  OF    THE    WAR. 

pect  of  having  agreeable  neighbors,  whose  society 
would  relieve  the  tedium  of  their  country  life. 

The  climate  seemed  already  to  invigorate  Mrs.  Gild- 
ersleeve,  and  her  health  had  improved.  Perceiving  the 
change  with  great  satisfaction,  her  husband  felt  that 
he  could  now  direct  his  attention  to  the  factory  scheme  ; 
and  with  a  view  to  learning  the  general  sentiment 
towards  his  project,  he  conversed  on  the  subject  with 
the  different  men  he  met,  both  in  Carrollton  and  Belle 
ville.  Some  few  did  not  believe  that  success  would 
attend  the  enterprise  ;  others  expressed  the  opinion 
that  the  State  government  would  not  be  sufficiently 
generous  towards  the  undertaking,  and  that  the  taxa 
tion  would  be  ruinously  heavy.  But  in  the  main,  the 
sentiment  of  the  people  was  one  of  encouragement  ; 
all  seemed  interested,  many  were  sanguine  of  success, 
and  not  a  few  promised  their  assistance  as  soon  as  the 
scheme  took  the  shape  of  a  corporation.  Again  was 
Mr.  Gildersleeve  agreeably  disappointed.  He  was  sur 
prised  at  the  interest  exhibited,  for  he  had  expected 
that  the  people  generally,  prompted  by  sectional  feel 
ing,  would  sneer  at  and  oppose  his  plans.  A  few, 
undoubtedly,  did  pursue  this  course,  and  there  were 
some  unseen  obstacles  yet  to  appear.  But  those  who 
threw  cold  water  represented  only  themselves,  fossils 
as  they  were,  the  remnants  of  a  decaying  regime.  The 
active  and  energetic  men  of  the  day  supported  him 
with  one  accord  ;  and  a  number,  among  whom  were 
Colonel  Graham  and  Francis  Gravoir,  expressed  a 
desire  to  participate  in  the  enterprise. 

A  meeting  of  all  interested  was  finally  held  at  the 
office  of  Francis  Gravoir ;  and  after  a  free  discussion, 
the  plans  of  Mr.  Gildersleeve  were  endorsed  with 


A    MAN'S  A    MAN  'POR  A'    THAT.  67 

great  unanimity.  It  was  decided  to  form  an  incorpor 
ated  company,  application  being  made  to  the  legisla 
ture  for  a  charter,  and  the  capital  was  fixed  at  $250,- 
ooo.  Mr.  Gildersleeve  was  authorized  to  investigate 
the  various  localities  which  had  been  suggested  as 
adapted  for  manufacturing  purposes.  It  was  under 
stood  that  he  was  to  be  president  of  the  corporation, 
and  to  have  practical  control  of  the  whole  business. 
Mr.  Gildersleeve  proposed  to  begin  operations  at  an 
early  date,  and  desired  to  obtain  the  charter  as  soon  as 
the  legislature  met,  which  would  be  some  time  during 
the  next  month.  To  avoid  delay,  Mr.  Gravoir  was 
instructed  to  prepare  the  charter,  and,  placing  it  in 
the  hands  of  a  representative,  to  urge  its  immediate 
passage.  The  meeting  ended  harmoniously,  and  all 
seemed  pleased  with  the  prospects. 

After  business  had  been  dismissed,  the  gentlemen 
were  lingering  in  conversation,  when  General  Gravoir 
and  Maurice  Graham  entered.  The  talk  became  more 
lively,  and,  as  often  happened  at  this  period, — indeed, 
it  may  be  considered  as  a  peculiarity  of  the  American 
character, — politics  soon  became  the  topic  of  discuss 
ion.  This  rather  pleased  Gildersleeve,  who,  after 
once  perceiving  that  there  was  no  intention  to  force 
conviction  upon  him,  was  glad  to  learn  the  views  and 
feelings  of  the  people,  and  he  rather  precipitated  the 
controversy  which  ensued. 

"  I  can  not  help  thinking,"  said  he,  "  as  1  walk  along 
your  streets  and  see  the  ravages  of  war,  how  much  suf 
fering  would  have  been  spared  both  North  and  South 
if  our  differences  could  have  been  settled  peaceably. 
How  fortunate  would  it  have  been  if  the  South  had 
been  able  to  understand  that  defeat  was  certain." 


68  THE   SHADOW  OF    THE   WAR. 

"  Yes,  indeed,"  replied  Colonel  Graham.  "  But  it 
was  impossible  for  the  Southerner  to  rid  himself  of 
his  natural  vehemence,  and  his  blind  devotion  to  those 
principles  which  he  believed  necessary  to  his  polit 
ical  security.  They — and  I  mean  the  ruling  classes — 
conscientiously  believed  in  their  political  tenets  ;  they 
regarded  the  election  of  President  Lincoln  as  the  indi 
cation  of  a  radical  change  in  national  politics,  which 
would,  in  its  progress,  not  only  overthrow  the  institu 
tion  of  slavery,  but  with  its  downfall  destroy  even  the 
political  power  of  the  South.  Roused  by  this  impend 
ing  danger,  they  hastily  but  resolutely  passed  the  ordi 
nances  of  secession,  and  hustled  the  Southern  States 
out  of  the  Union,  without  stopping  to  consider  whether 
they  were  able  to  withstand  the  assaults  they  were 
bound  to  expect.  They  thought  that  they  were  right, 
and  they  stopped  to  consider  nothing  else." 

"  Yes,"  interrupted  General  Gravoir,  "  they  felt 
that  they  would  rather  die  than  submit  to  the  tyranny 
of  the  Abolitionists,  and  they  staked  their  all  upon  the 
issue,  and  lost.  But  they  have  the  satisfaction  of  pre 
serving  their  honor,  at  least." 

"  You  are  right,  General,"  replied  Graham  ;  "  but 
it  is  on  account  of  their  abandoning  themselves  to  that 
feeling  that  fault  may  be  found  with  our  leaders.  One 
who  is  not  acquainted  with  Southern  life  and  charac 
ter  is  amazed  at  the  blind  self-confidence  they  dis 
played  in  sustaining  slavery  against  the  united  opposi 
tion  of  the  civilized  world.  As  Dr.  Lieber  said  in  one 
of  his  letters  to  Mr.  Calhoun  :  '  It  is  not  the  North 
that  is  against  you, — it  is  mankind,  it  is  the  world,  it 
is  civilization,  it  is  history,  it  is  reason,  it  is  God,  that 
is  against  slavery.'  ' 


"A    MAN'S  A   MAN  FOR  A'    THAT."  69 

"  Or,  more  surprising  still,  how  did  the  whole  peo 
ple  become  so  infatuated  with  slavery,  that  they  rose 
like  one  man  in  its  defence  ?  "  inquired  Mr.  Gilder- 
sleeve. 

"  That  is  a  popular  error,  which  even  many  South 
erners  have  shared,"  replied  Colonel  Graham.  "  A 
majority  of  the  people  endorsed  the  actions  of  the 
leaders,  but  there  was  still  a  respectable  minority  who 
opposed  secession,  on  the  very  grounds  I  have  men 
tioned.  Secession  was  the  work  of  a  few  men,  and  did 
not  emanate  from  the  people.  Many  of  those  who 
supported  it  from  the  outset,  did  so  in  a  majority  of 
cases  because  the  leaders  had  stamped  it  with  their 
approval,  and  not  through  any  fixed  opinions  of  their 
own  ;  while  a  large  number  subsequently  expressed 
their  loyalty  because  it  was  dangerous  to  oppose  the 
majority." 

"  You  are  mistaken,"  again  interrupted  General  Gra- 
voir.  "  Secession  was  opposed  by  only  a  small  minor 
ity  ;  secession  was  the  work  of  an  essentially  united 
people,  not  of  a  few  hot-headed  leaders,  as  you  put  it. 
I  think  you  do  the  Southern  people  great  injustice 
when  you  say  that  they  neither  could  nor  would  think 
for  themselves." 

"  I  beg  to  differ  with  you,  General,"  said  Maurice 
Graham,  who  spoke  for  the  first  time.  "  It  is  an  actual 
fact — you  may  not  admit  it,  for  you  belonged  to  the 
ruling  class — that  the  State  government,  prior  to  the 
war,  was  republican  only  in  name.  It  was  essentially 
an  aristocratic  drawing-room  government.  The  South 
ern  aristocracy  ruled  the  land,  to  the  exclusion  of  the 
common  and  middle  classes.  It  was  their  interest  to 
sustain  slavery  at  any  cost,  for  with  its  abolition  their 


70  THE    SHADOW  OF    THE   WAR. 

power  was  gone.  The  prominent  leaders  created  an 
excitement ;  they  delivered  passionate  speeches  to  the 
people,  proclaimed  that  our  rights  and  liberties  were 
being  trampled  on,  and  that  our  very  political  exist 
ence  was  threatened.  The  masses  believed  these  utter 
ances,  accepted  the  cause  of  the  leaders  as  their  own, 
and  hurrahed  for  secession." 

"  But  how  do  you  explain  the  absence  of  that  indi 
viduality  of  thought  and  opinion  which  we  find  in  other 
sections  of  our  country  ?"  inquired  Mr.  Gildersleeve. 

"  That  is  easily  understood  when  we  remember  that 
subserviency  to  the  ruling  class  was  the  result  of  three 
causes  :  first,  the  unity  of  interest  among  that  class  ; 
second,  their  intolerance  of  opposition  and  their  power 
to  suppress  those  who  dared  to  be  independent ;  and 
third,  the  narrow  provincial  education  provided  for 
Southern  youth.  The  love  of  power  is  a  strong  pas 
sion,  and  will  unify  the  most  opposite  characters. 
Even  where  people  who  have  themselves  been  slaves 
are  admitted  into  the  ruling  class,  they  in  time  be 
come  oppressors  because  of  the  uncertain  tenure  by 
which  they  hold  their  position.  Since  their  exclusive 
power  rested  solely  upon  the  existence  of  slavery,  and 
being  accustomed  in  their  management  of  slaves  to 
have  their  slightest  wish  obeyed,  this  ruling  class  were 
intolerant  of  opposition  by  those  whom  they  regarded 
as  inferiors.  But  the  most  important  cause  was  the 
character  of  Southern  education.  From  early  infancy, 
by  a  judicious  selection  of  books  containing  Southern 
literature,  the  children  were  grounded  in  sectional 
ideas  and  prejudices,  and  were  taught  to  declaim  the 
fiery  utterances  of  Southern  statesmen.  Every  book 
which  presented  other  or  contrary  views  was  excluded 


"A    MAN'S  A    MAN  FOR  A'    THAT,"  71 

from  the  Southern  youth's  library,  so  that  he  grew  up 
fully  imbued  with  the  grandeur  of  Southern  character, 
and  thoroughly  convinced  that  the  position  of  the  South 
on  national  issues  was  unassailable.  That  spirit  is  mani 
fested  even  to  this  day.  Not  long  ago,  I  was  present 
in  one  of  the  Sunday-schools  of  this  city,  and  I  saw 
the  superintendent  reject  a  book  donated  to  the  library 
because  it  alluded  to  the  war  as  '  the  late  rebellion.' 
Perhaps,  had  I  not  been  educated  abroad,  I  would  not 
now  hold  these  views,  for  they  are  not  those  of  my 
early  youth.  But  when  I  met  people  from  all  parts  of 
the  world,  and  studied  opinions  and  literature  so  oppo 
site  to  those  that  obtained  at  home,  the  truth  grad 
ually  dawned  upon  me,  and  I  reached  the  conclusion, 
which  I  now  maintain,  that  Southern  education  before 
the  war  was  altogether  unreliable  in  matters  peculiarly 
affecting  Southern  interests.  No  wonder,  then,  that 
the  Southern  people  became  en  masse  hero- worshippers, 
and  believed  the  warnings  of  their  heroes  that  the 
abolition  of  slavery  would  be  the  country's  ruin." 

"  H'm,"  interposed  General  Gravoir,  flushed  with 
excitement ;  "  you  will  say  next  that  slavery  was  a 

crime,  and,  like  the  d d  abolitionists  of  the  North, 

that  our  defeat  was  a  divine  retribution  for  its  main 
tenance  !  " 

"  I  do  not  support  such  extreme  views  on  this  sub 
ject,"  said  Colonel  Graham.  "  But  you  know,  Gen 
eral,  I  always  detested  slavery,  and  held  slaves  only  to 
supply  my  family  with  efficient  domestic  service.  I 
studiously  avoided  the  hardships  that  resulted  from 
extensive  slave-ownership,  such  as  the  separation  of 
families,  and  consequently  I  possessed  more  slaves 


72  THE   SHADOW  OF    THE    WAR. 

than  I  needed.  They  were  a  burden,  not  a  profitable 
investment." 

"  Then  why  did  you  not  urge  the  abolition  of  sla 
very  ? "  asked  one  of  the  gentlemen  present. 

"  Because  I  thought  that  the  institution  was  an  econ 
omical  necessity  to  the  South.  I  believed,  from  the  light 
I  then  had,  that  its  abolition  would  destroy  our  labor 
system  and  demoralize  our  industries,  as  it  would  be 
impossible  to  replace  slavery  by  an  effective  free  labor. 
The  presence  of  the  negroes  in  such  large  numbers 
would  drive  out  white  labor,  just  as  cheap  silver  coin 
will  displace  gold  in  monetary  systems.  But  experi 
ence  since  the  war,  although  attended  with  disastrous 
consequences,  has  demonstrated  that  free  labor  can  be 
as  successfully  employed  as  slave  labor,  and  without 
any  of  the  disagreeable  accompaniments  that  attended 
the  latter.  But  there  was  another  and  a  powerful  ele 
ment  in  the  feeling,  which  was  that  it  would  be  useless 
to  attempt  the  abolition  of  slavery  so  long  as  popular 
opinion  insisted  upon  its  maintenance,  without  help 
from  abroad.  Once  planted  in  the  South,  the  institu 
tion  became  too  deeply  engrafted  to  be  easily  removed; 
and  it  required  just  such  a  war  as  we  have  passed 
through,  to  eradicate  the  evil.  Those  who  did  not 
come  under  its  corroding  influences  should  not  mea 
sure  the  responsibility  of  the  South  by  their  own  stan 
dard  of  right  and  wrong.  It  was  a  troublesome, 
deep-seated  evil,  and,  thank  God  !  it  has  become  a 
thing  of  the  past  !  " 

"  Those  are  certainly  not  my  views  on  slavery," 
said  General  Gravoir,  as  Colonel  Graham  finished 
speaking.  "  I  maintain  that  the  negro  is,  by  the  decree 
of  God,  intended  to  be  the  servant  and  slave  of  the 


"A   MAW'S  A    MAN  FOR  A'    THAT."  73 

Caucasian  race.  He  is  incapable  of  entering  into  suc 
cessful  competition  with  his  superiors,  and  must,  under 
the  law  of  natural  selection,  if  not  by  divine  will,  take 
the  lowest  position  in  the  social  scale.  The  Old  Tes 
tament  tells  us  that  Canaan  and  all  his  seed  were  cursed 
by  Noah  and  condemned  to  be  forever  the  servants  of 
the  seed  of  Shem  and  Japhet.  Why,  then,  should 
African  slavery,  if  conducted  humanely,  conflict  with 
the  teachings  and  doctrines  of  Christianity  ? " 

"  How  do  you  reconcile  your  position  General," 
asked  Mr.  Gildersleeve,  "  with  the  undisputed  fact  that 
the  early  Christians  opposed  Roman  slavery  and  finally 
succeeded  in  securing  its  abolition  ? " 

"  Very  easily,"  was  the  ready  answer.  "  Roman 
slavery  was  the  enslaving  of  equals,  captives  taken  in 
war  from  races  and  peoples  rivalling  the  Romans  both 
in  intelligence  and  material  development.  But  we  en 
slaved  only  our  inferiors,  a  race  that  was  accursed  by 
God,  and  in  maintaining  slavery  we  were  but  instru 
ments  in  God's  hands." 

"I  know,  General,"  interrupted  Maurice,  "that 
those  are  your  conscientious  convictions  ;  but  it  is  im 
possible  for  me  to  conceive  of  a  just  God  who  could 
consign  a  whole  race  to  slavery  on  account  of  the  sup 
posed  sin  of  its  original  progenitor.  I  reject  any  such 
religious  dogma.  Science  teaches  us  that  mankind  has 
reached  its  present  state  through  a  continuous  course 
of  self-causing  development,  from  the  lowest  condition 
of  human  life  and  perhaps  even  beyond.  I  believe  that 
the  negro,  when  removed  from  unfavorable  surround 
ings,  is  capable  of  the  highest  development.  This  may 
require  generations  ;  but  the  time  can  be  shortened 
by  providing  the  race  with  advantages.  Our  own 


74  THE    SHADOW  OF    THE   WAR. 

people  are  gradually  learning  to  look  upon  the  intel 
lectual  and  moral  elevation  of  the  negro  as  a  political 
necessity.  A  great  revolution  in  public  opinion  is 
quietly  going  on  at  the  South,  and  I  venture  the  asser 
tion  that  the  time  will  come,  and  at  no  very  distant 
day,  when  our  posterity  will  blush  to  acknowledge  that 
their  forefathers  upheld  slavery  and  opposed  its  aboli 
tion  with  all  the  power  they  could  wield." 

"What  are  you  talking  about,  young  man? "ex 
claimed  General  Gravoir,  with  a  flushed  face  and  voice 
trembling  with  indignation.  "  Our  posterity  blush  for 
the  misdeeds  of  their  forefathers  !  Good  God  !  I 
never  thought  to  see  tlie  day  when  a  Southerner  would 
breathe  such  sentiments  !  That  comes  of  sending 
children  to  Europe  to  be  educated  !  Look  here,  Mau 
rice,  you  are  still  young  and  inexperienced,  and  you 
are  not  expected  to  handle  such  subjects  intelligently. 
Take  my  advice,  if  you  desire  to  live  in  Carrollton,  and 
never  again  give  expression  to  such  anti-Southern 
views."  The  old  gentlemen,  having  risen  from  his 
seat,  bowed  to  the  group  as  he  concluded,  and  with  a 
haughty  stride  left  the  office. 

"  My  father  loses  control  over  himself  when  he  hears 
opinions  so  different  from  what  he  believes  to  be  true," 
said  Francis  Gravoir,  evidently  desiring  to  remove  any 
unpleasantness  that  might  be  caused  by  the  General's 
abrupt  departure.  "  He  was  educated  in  the  old  school 
of  Southern  politics,  and  at  his  time  of  life  it  is  impos 
sible  for  one  to  become  reconciled  to  such  radical 
changes.  I  do  not,  myself,  share  all  the  views  of  Col 
onel  Graham  or  his  son ;  I  accept  the  situation  as  it  is. 
Born  of  that  class  which  Colonel  Graham  has  termed 
the  aristocracy,  it  is  but  natural  that  I  should  deplore 


"  A    MAN'S  A    MAN  FOR  A'    THA  T."  75 

the  loss  of  wealth  and  power.  But  revolutions  never 
go  backward;  so  I  accept  the  inevitable,  and  only  trust 
that  our  people  will  work  out  a  solution  of  the  problem 
which  this  revolution  has  left  behind." 

By  the  time  Gravoir  had  finished  speaking,  several 
of  the  gentlemen  had  risen  to  leave,  and  the  party 
broke  up  rather  suddenly,  as  though  a  damper  had 
been  cast  across  the  freedom  of  the  discussion.  Even 
now,  the  expiring  influence  of  the  old  aristocracy 
could  still  be  perceived  in  the  hesitation  with  which 
men  of  advanced  ideas  declared  their  position. 

Afterwards,  when  thinking  over  the  conversation, 
Gildersleeve  said  to  himself  :  "  Well,  I  am  glad  to  have 
met  one  red-hot  Southerner  ;  but  yet,  apart  from  his 
politics,  he  seems  a  very  respectable  old  gentleman." 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

A  SOUTHERN  FIRE-EATER. 

UPON  Mr.  Gildersleeve  devolved  the  duty  of  select 
ing  a  site  for  the  proposed  factory,  his  choice 
being  subject  to  approval  by  the  company  ;  and  for  a 
week  or  two  he  had  been  actively  engaged  investigating 
the  merits  of  the  various  localities  mentioned  to  him,  but 
as  yet  had  decided  upon  none.  He  had  visited  many 
estates,  and  it  is  scarcely  too  much  to  say  that  he  was 
shocked  by  the  desolation  that  met  his  eye.  Vast 
fields,  that  before  the  war  had  borne  each  year  large 
crops  of  rice  and  cotton,  were  lying  unfilled,  and  in 
many  cases  had  returned  to  their  original  condition  of 
swampy  wilderness.  Here  and  there  the  proprietor  of 
a  plantation  had  selected  a  few  hundred  acres,  and  oc 
casionally  managed  to  secure  handsome  crops.  But 
when  inquiry  was  made  of  his  financial  condition,  it 
was  ascertained  that  he  labored  under  a  load  of  debt 
to  his  factor  in  Carrollton.  Scattered  all  through 
these  large  plantations  were  small  tracts  of  from  five 
to  fifty  acres,  rented  by  negroes  and  cultivated  after  a 
slovenly  fashion.  If  the  crops  proved  good,  the  rent 
would  probably  be  paid ;  but  if  they  failed,  either 
through  bad  seasons  or  by  the  cultivator's  negligence, 
the  negro  tenant  did  not  hold  himself  responsible.  One 
of  the  most  paying  industries  seemed  to  be  the  making 
of  rosin  and  turpentine  ;  and  as  there  are  large  areas 

(76) 


A    SOUTHERN  FIRE-EATER.  77 

of  pine  forests  around  Belleville,  the  business  was  ex 
tensively  conducted.  But  agriculturally,  the  region 
along  the  coast  was,  as  far  as  he  could  observe,  com 
pletely  prostrated.  There  were  barely  enough  crops 
raised  to  subsist  the  scanty  white  population.  How 
the  innumerable  negroes  lived,  was  a  mystery  to  him. 
He  had  been  told,  and  believed,  that  this  sad  condition 
did  not  exist  to  so  great  an  extent  in  other  portions  of 
the  State.  But  why  the  difference  ?  It  could  not  be 
that  the  malaria  prevailing  in  the  lower  region  was  the 
cause,  for  the  unhealthiness  of  a  rice  plantation  never 
prevented  its  cultivation  before  the  war.  Did  the 
character  of  the  population  exert  much  influence  ?  It 
certainly  seemed  so  ;  along  the  coast  the  whites  were 
very  few  in  number,  and  the  negro  majority  was  im 
mense  ;  while  as  one  traveled  up  from  the  water-line 
the  whites  increased,  and  at  the  same  time  farms 
became  more  numerous  and  their  appearance  more 
thrifty. 

These  reflections  were  suggested  to  Mr.  Gilder- 
sleeve  while  pursuing  his  investigations.  He  had  been 
pleased  with  two  or  three  localities,  but  particularly 
with  one  a  few  miles  out  of  Belleville.  He  had  several 
times  visited  this  place  to  see  the  owner,  who,  however, 
had  happened  to  be  absent  on  these  occasions.  At 
each  visit  Mr.  Gildersleeve  was  more  impressed  with 
the  advantages  the  place  offered.  On  this  plantation, 
the  pine-land  belt  extended  almost  to  the  river  which 
emptied  into  Carrollton  harbor,  and  the  principal 
railroad  leading  out  of  the  city  traversed  its  acres. 
Water  and  fuel  were  abundant,  communication  with 
Carrollton  would  be  easy,  and  healthy  homes  might  be 
built  for  the  operatives  in  the  pine  forests. 


?8  THE   SHADOW  OF    THE   WAR. 

Being  very  anxious  to  meet  the  proprietor,  and  hav 
ing  been  informed  of  his  return,  Mr.  Gildersleeve  set 
out  one  bright  crispy  November  afternoon,  with  his 
wife  and  daughter,  to  ride  down  to  the  plantation. 
Even  in  those  dense  pine  regions  through  which  their 
road  was  a  sandy  track  for  a  half  hour  or  more,  there 
is  much  to  impress  the  stranger  unaccustomed  to  such 
grand  yet  solitary  forests.  After  leaving  the  town,  only 
an  occasional  squatter  settlement  of  negroes  presented 
itself,  consisting  of  a  few  wretched  huts  almost  buried 
among  the  lofty  pines  ;  or  even  more  rarely  would  be 
seen  the  unpretentious  cottage  of  a  white  farmer.  On 
either  side  of  the  road  the  pines  presented  one  dense 
towering  growth,  and  as  far  as  the  eye  could  scan 
between  their  shapely  trunks,  pine  succeeded  pine  until 
the  gaze  was  interrupted  by  the  dark  and  impenetrable 
mass. 

Tall  and  regular  in  their  growth  as  these  trees  are, 
and  beautiful  and  strong  enough  to  bear  the  pennant 
of  the  old  style  man-of-war,  there  is  a  grandeur  in 
their  massive  array  that  can  not  fail  to  produce  its 
effect  upon  him  who  travels  through  them  for  the  first 
time.  But  when  he  looks  forward  into  their  dark  and 
gloomy  recesses,  one  is  unconsciously  relieved  that 
fortune  does  not  compel  him  to  dwell  there  always  ; 
rather  would  he  seek  the  gladness  of  the  sunshine  and 
fields,  of  the  meadows  and  flowing  brooks,  than  the 
hidden  depths  of  a  forest  where  the  owl  screeches  even 
in  daylight,  and  the  buck  grazes  quietly  with  no  fear 
of  the  hound. 

The  land  as  a  rule  was  very  level,  and  presented 
almost  no  variety.  About  every  mile  or  so,  the  sur 
face  would  gradually  rise  to  form  an  elevation  but 


A    SOUTHERN  FIRE-EATER.  79 

slightly  raised  above  the  surrounding  country.  Here 
the  soil  was  sandy  and  dry,  supporting  very  little  veg 
etation  except  the  pines.  From  one  of  these  eleva 
tions  the  descent  was  gentle  until  the  other  extreme 
was  met.  Then  the  vegetation  changed  almost  com 
pletely.  The  pines  seemed  to  avoid  these  boggy  resorts 
of  the  moccasin  and  snipe,  carefully  skirting  the  bor 
ders.  In  their  stead  grew  thickly  a  mass  of  tangled 
vines  and  brushwood,  the  air  laden  perhaps  with  the 
delicious  odor  of  the  yellow  jessamine.  Interspersed 
throughout  such  a  jungle  stood  the  cypress  and  the 
gnarled  oak,  covered  with  venerable  moss  ;  one  might 
almost  imagine  these  stumpy  trees  apologizing  for  the 
dignity  they  lacked  in  the  presence  of  so  many  majes 
tic  pines. 

Sometimes  a  long  line  of  such  growth  would  run 
through  the  very  heart  of  a  pine  forest  for  a  considerable 
distance,  forming  a  complete  boundary  line  between  two 
large  areas  of  pine.  The  soil  was  always  wet  in  these 
localities,  and  they  were  justly  considered  unhealthy 
for  the  white  man.  In  wet  weather  these  brakes  always 
overflow  with  water,'  which  joins  the  river  not  many 
miles  distant. 

A  traveler  might  ride  for  a  long  distance  through 
such  a  forest  without  hearing  a  human  voice.  Some 
times  the  sound  of  a  wood-chopper's  axe  might  break 
the  silence  ;  and  if  curiosity  prompted  investigation, 
at  the  end  of  a  devious  path  he  would  find  a  few  negroes 
lazily  cutting  into  convenient  logs  the  pine  they  had 
felled,  bringing  probably  in  its  descent  several  others 
with  it.  The  coming  of  a  stranger  upon  a  party  of 
negroes  thus  engaged  stops  work  completely  fora  time. 
They  gather  around  him,  or  sit  upon  the  pile  of  wood 
F 


80  THE   SHADOW  OF    THE   WAR. 

they  have  collected,  and  inspect  the  latest  arrival  from 
civilization  with  the  utmost  simplicity.  Even  the  oxen 
harnessed  to  the  wagon  near  by  know  that  something 
unusual  has  happened,  and  slowly  turn  their  large  stu 
pid  eyes  towards  the  center  of  interest.  The  mangy 
cur,  which  is  the  negro's  constant  companion,  invaria 
bly  comes  up  and  passes  compliments  in  different  ways 
according  to  the  nature  of  the  dog.  The  negroes  feel 
complimented  by  such  a  visit,  and,  good-natured  folks 
as  they  are  when  free  from  politics  and  whiskey, 
answer  glibly  all  questions.  Perhaps,  if  the  traveler 
has  lost  his  way,  one  of  them  immediately  volunteers 
to  set  him  on  the  right  road  ;  even  a  friendly  rivalry 
being  manifested  to  fill  such  an  honorable  post.  But 
when,  tired  of  the  scene,  the  stranger  turns  to  go,  no 
sooner  do  the  negroes  perceive  his  intention,  than  one 
of  them  steps  up,  doffs  his  head-gear  if  he  possesses 
any,  or  else  scrapes  his  foot,  and  in  the  most  insinuat 
ing  tone,  says  :  "  Please,  Massa,  is  yer  got  any  ter- 
backy?"  The  tobacco  is  produced,  and  up  comes 
another  negro,  then  another,  and  another,  until  they 
all  have  had  a  piece  and  the  tobacco  has  disappeared. 

But  beyond  such  exceptional  scenes,  a  profound 
stillness  prevails  in  these  woods,  broken  occasionally 
by  the  chirp  of  the  cricket,  or  the  drumming  of  the 
woodpecker  as  he  seeks  his  daily  meal  in  the  bark  of  a 
pine.  Otherwise,  only  the  low  soughing  sound  is 
heard  in  its  strong  yet  plaintive  sadness,  as  the  air 
moves  listlessly  through  the  bushy  heads  of  innumer 
able  pines. 

After  an  hour's  ride,  for  the  most  part  through  such 
a  pine  forest,  the  Gildersleeves  approached  the  plan 
tation  they  were  to  visit.  This  estate  was  the  prop- 


A    SOUTHER IV  FIRE-EATER.  81 

erty  of  a  Major  Louis  Mixon — a  man  who  was  somewhat 
of  a  character  in  this  section.  He  could  trace  his 
ancestors  back  to  early  colonial  time  ;  but  exactly  where 
they  had  come  from,  neither  he  nor  any  one  else  knew. 
However,  some  of  his  family  had  served  with  gallantry 
both  against  the  Indians  and  the  British  ;  and  having 
managed  to  acquire  land,  to  which  additions  had  been 
made  by  several  generations,  their  title  to  membership 
among  the  gentry  was  considered  indisputable.  But 
in  manners  and  cultivation  Mixon  represented  a  class — 
small,  it  is  true — that  was  very  provincial  and  limited 
in  knowledge  of  the  great  world.  Though  possessed 
of  ample  means,  these  people  almost  invariably  lived 
a  lifetime  on  their  plantations,  occasionally  running 
down  to  Carrollton,  where  their  wealth,  family  record 
and  connections  gave  them  excellent  social  position. 
Even  the  people  of  Carrollton  recognized  the  glaring 
provincialisms  of  their  country  cousins,  but  good-na 
turedly  forgave  them.  A  few  years  prior  to  the  war,  there 
were  some  who  had  begun  to  avail  themselves  of  their 
advantages  ;  and  had  the  war  not  occurred,  doubtless 
the  greatly  increased  facilities  for  travel  and  education 
would  have  done  much  to  improve  the  manners  and 
habits  of  a  half-century  ago.  Spending  most  of  his 
youth  on  the  family  plantation,  Louis  Mixon  was  one 
of  the  best  horsemen  and  hunters  in  the  country 
around,  and  had  an  excellent  knowledge  of  agricul 
ture  as  practised  in  his  section.  But  even  that  was  anti 
quated  when  compared  with  the  improved  methods 
employed  in  other  portions  of  the  country.  Still,  as 
slave  labor  was  cheap,  and,  when  well  disciplined,  very 
profitable,  there  was  no  incentive  to  improvement,  and 
Mixon  learned  farming  after  the  fashion  of  his  grand- 


82  THE    SHADOW  OF    THE   WAR. 

fathers.  With  the  abolition  of  slavery,  came  inevita 
bly  the  fall  of  the  old  system  of  agriculture  ;  and 
Mixon,  like  many  others,  was  too  strongly  wedded  to 
former  habits  to  forget  them  and  learn  new  ones,  even 
if  opportunity  presented  itself. 

Left  an  orphan  at  nineteen,  and  succeeding  to  the 
estate  at  twenty-one,  Mixon  had  seen  nothing  of  the 
world  ;  and  when,  at  the  age  of  thirty,  the  war  broke 
out  between  the  States,  it  found  him  deeply  imbued 
with  all  the  intensely  passionate  prejudices  of  the 
South,  and  ready  to  die  in  their  defence.  The  owner 
of  several  hundred  slaves,  he  had  an  innate  contempt 
for  the  negro  except  as  a  labor  machine,  and  he  believed 
that  the  abolition  of  slavery  was  only  national  rob 
bery.  He  was  of  that  headstrong  class  who  rushed 
the  South  to  bloodshed  and  ruin,  living,  many  of  them, 
to'  regret  their  passion,  while  only  death  could  quench 
their  prejudices. 

At  the  outbreak  of  the  war,  Mixon  entered  service 
as  a  lieutenant  of  a  cavalry  company  raised  in  his 
county.  In  the  first  fight  the  captain  was  killed,  and 
Mixon  was  promoted  to  the  vacancy.  Shortly  after, 
he  led  his  company  in  a  desperate  charge  without 
orders,  for  which  he  was  suspended.  A  month  or  two 
later  he  was  reinstated,  but  in  the  very  next  battle  he 
received  a  severe  wound  and  was  sent  home.  Remain 
ing  on  his  plantation  about  a  year,  he  rejoined  his  com 
mand,  and  at  the  close  of  the  war  he  held  the  rank  of 
Major. 

At  last,  when  he  finally  returned  home  with  much 
bitterness  in  his  heart,  he  felt  himself  a  ruined  man. 
Of  all  his  princely  wealth,  what  remained  ?  Only  one 
or  two  thousands  of  now  worthless  acres  ;  his  slaves 


A    SOUTHERN  FIRE-EATER  83 

all  freed  ;  his  stock  killed  or  driven  off ;  the  outbuild 
ings  razed,  the  old  family  mansion  gutted  and  partially 
burned  ;  his  bank  account  represented  by  worthless 
papers ;  it  seemed  to  him  that  every  resource  was 
exhausted,  and  in  the  year  following,  his  family  would 
actually  have  suffered  for  the  necessaries  of  life  had 
it  not  been  for  his  ready  rifle  and  the  abundant  game 
in  the  forests  around.  After  a  fashion,  he  managed  to 
live,  and  now  he  was  engaged  in  cultivating  a  small 
acreage,  but  his  main  reliance  was  on  the  turpentine 
and  rosin  industry.  With  borrowed  capital  he  had 
built  a  large  still  among  the  pines  ;  but  his  debts  pressed 
him  so  closely  that  he  barely  eked  out  a  subsistence  for 
his  family.  The  whole  estate  was  in  disorder,  much 
of  his  richest  land  having  become  a  wilderness  of  brush 
wood. 

Personally,  Major  Mixon  was  a  man  of  much  force 
of  character,  although  misdirected.  Of  magnificent 
physique,  six  feet  in  his  stockings,  and  with  muscles 
hardened  to  iron  by  constant  exercise,  many  a  refrac 
tory  negro  had  felt  the  weight  of  his  arm.  Impetuous 
and  of  undaunted  courage,  the  negroes  knew  him  as 
an  inflexible  man,  before  whom  they  could  assert  their 
newly  acquired  rights  only  when  numbers  gave  them 
confidence.  Each  felt  that  "the  bottom  rail  was  on 
top,"  and  though  the  negroes  were  very  polite  to  the 
"boss,"  yet  in  politics  a  wide  gap  separated  the  former 
master  and  the  old  slave.  Sometimes,  it  is  true,  this 
difference  seemed  about  to  be  removed  ;  but  as  yet 
there  were  too  many  demagogues  pandering  to  the 
ignorance  of  the  one,  and  the  prejudices  of  the  other 
were  too  intense  for  such  a  happy  occurrence. 

But  the  Gildersleeves  were  nearing  Mixon's  resi- 


84  THE   SHADOW  OF    THE    WAR. 

dence,  and  had  just  left  the  main  road,  through  a  dilap 
idated  gate-way,  to  drive  up  the  broad  avenue,  lined 
with  noble  trees,  that  leads  for  almost  a  quarter  of  a 
mile  to  the  old  family  house.  Even  now,  Mixon  was 
proud  of  these  oaks,  and  could  honestly  point  out  a 
number  as  being  over  a  hundred  years  old.  The  Gild- 
ersleeves  were  riding  slowly  along  this  avenue,  admir 
ing  the  beauty  of  the  oaks — for  they  were  of  a  very 
different  kind  from  the  scrubby  trees  to  be  seen  in  the 
brakes, — when  their  coachman  exchanged  words  with 
two  passing  negroes,  and  suddenly  stopping  the 
horses,  bent  down  to  speak  to  those  inside. 

"  What's  the  matter,  Pompey  ?  " 

"  Mass  Gillersleebe,  dese  niggers  dat's  jest  gone  by, 
dey  says  dere  is  trouble  up  at  de  house  'tween  Mass 
Mixon  an'  his  turpentine  niggers.  All  de  niggers  is  on 
a  strike  fur  mo'  pay,  an'  de  Major  won't  gib  in." 

"  They  didn't  say  that  there  was  any  disturbance  ?  " 

"  Not  'zactly,  sah,  but  I  cal'clate  dat  dey  is  'terro- 
gatin'  each  oder  purty  stiff  like." 

"  Well,  we  are  so  near  now,  I  suppose  you  had  bet 
ter  drive  on ;  but  if  there  is  any  trouble  we'll  turn 
back." 

The  carriage  proceeded,  and  in  a  few  minutes  more 
rolled  off  the  avenue  into  a  broad  open  space  where  a 
curious  scene  was  presented.  This  space,  perhaps  some 
ten  acres  in  extent,  was  perfectly  level,  and  was  the 
remains  of  a  once  beautiful  lawn.  Now  its  greater 
portion  bore  only  weeds  of  a  ragged  growth,  with  here 
and  there  a  patch  of  bright  green  grass  which  served 
to  suggest  the  former  glories  of  the  sward.  At  the 
eastern  end  of  the  lawn  stood  a  substantial  square  two- 
story  brick  building,  considerably  elevated  above  the 


A    SOUTHERN  FIRE- EATER.  85 

ground.  A  spacious  piazza,  ran  the  whole  length  of 
that  side  of  the  first  floor  fronting  the  lawn,  and  from 
this  piazza  rose  up  to  the  roof  of  the  building  six 
round  and  massive  pillars,  the  windows  of  the  second 
floor  looking  down  on  the  piazza.  Large  and  heavy 
stone  steps  led  up  to  the  piazza  from  the  lawn,  and  a 
granite  support  at  the  foot  of  the  steps  held  on  either 
side  the  figure  of  a  rampant  lion. 

Tied  to  hitching-posts  just  beneath  the  piazza  were 
some  half  dozen  saddle-horses,  and  seated  above  were 
the  same  number  of  men,  smoking  and  talking.  In 
their  midst  was  a  large  and  heavily  built  individual, 
with  a  sun-burnt  face,  and  a  sandy  beard  which 
extended  half  way  down  his  chest.  This  was  Major 
Mixon.  He  was  dressed  in  a  rough  coat  and  trowsers, 
top  boots  and  spurs,  blouse  shirt,  and  broad-brimmed 
slouch  hat ;  "  my  country  suit,  sir,"  as  he  was  wont  to 
say. 

About  thirty  yards  from  the  house  stood  a  single 
large  oak,  with  widely  branching  limbs  ;  one  of  those 
trees  of  which  Major  Mixon  could  say  :  "  Over  a  hun 
dred  years  old,  sir  !  "  Around  the  tree  were  gathered 
perhaps  three  or  four  scores  of  negroes,  a  few  of  whom 
were  women  and  children.  Some  of  this  crowd  were 
lying  on  their  backs,  just  as  negroes  love  to  sprawl  ; 
others  seemed  to  be  engaged  in  earnest  conversation. 

The  carriage  of  the  Gildersleeves  drove  up  and 
stopped  in  front  of  the  house.  In  a  moment  after 
ward  Mr.  Gildersleeve  was  out,  and  ascended  the  steps. 
Removing  his  hat,  he  asked  : 

"  Is  Mr.  Mixon  here  ?  " 

"  That's  my  name,"  responded  the  large  individual. 
"  Take  a  seat,"  pushing  one  towards  Mr.  Gildersleeve. 


86  THE    SHADOW  OF   THE    WAR. 

but  not  rising  from  his  own.  "  Have  you  come  to 
help  those  niggers  out  ?  They  said  they  were  going 
to  send  for  somebody  from  Carrollton  to  advise  'em, 
and  I  'spose  you  are  the  man,  eh  ?" 

"  Why,  no/'  returned  the  Northerner  in  surprise. 
"  My  name  is  Gildersleeve.  I  have  had  some  corre 
spondence  with  you  through  Mr.  Gravior,  regarding 
land  that  you  might  be  willing  to  sell." 

"  Oh,  ho  !  "  exclaimed  the  Major,  who  seemed  decid 
edly  in  a  bad  humor  ;  "  so  you  are  that  Yankee  fellow 
from  Massachusetts  who  wants  to  start  a  factory  down 
South,  eh  ?  Well,  I  thought  you  were  a  Yankee' ,  yes, 
I  did,  from  your  voice.  By  gosh,  Colton,"  turning  to 
a  man  who  sat  beside  him,  "  ain't  it  curious  how  you 
can  spot  those  fellows  the  first  word  they  drop?" 

"  Mighty  queer,  Major,"  responded  Colton  ;  "  bred 
in  the  bone,  I  should  say." 

"So  you  want  to  buy  some  of  my  land,  Mr. — 
What's-yer-name  ?  "  continued  Mixon. 

"Gildersleeve,"  replied  the  gentleman,  rather  stiffly. 
He  had  risen  from  the  chair  which  he  had  taken  at  first, 
and  now  stood  uncertain  whether  he  had  been  insulted 
or  not.  "  I  can't  say  that  I  have  decided  on  buying  ; 
I  am  only  thinking  of  doing  so.  I  wanted  to  have  a 
conversation  with  you  on  the  subject,  and  came  down 
here  to  make  an  appointment  for  the  purpose.  I  see 
that  my  coming  to-day  is  inopportune.  I  had  no  idea 
until  I  reached  the  avenue  that  you  were  having  trouble 
with  your  negroes.  When  you  get  things  straight 
ened  out,  I  will  perhaps  call  on  you  again." 

"  Might's  well  say  your  say  now,  Mr.  Gildersleeve," 
answered  Mixon,  in  a  less  offensive  tone,  and  evidently 
impressed  by  the  other's  dignity.  "  I  have  a  half-hour 


A    SOUTHERN  FIRE-EATER.  87 

to  spare.  How  much  do  you  propose  to  pay  an  acre 
for  this  land  ? " 

"  I  am  hardly  prepared  to  speak  of  terms  just  now, 
in  fact,  the  company  that  I  represent  will  have  to  de 
cide  that  point.  I  will  call  on  you  some  other  day," 
turning  to  leave. 

"  But  haven't  you  any  idea  what  you  will  offer  ? " 
persisted  the  Major. 

"  I  believe  the  market  value  of  land  like  yours  is 
now  from  five  to  fifteen  dollars  an  acre,"  answered 
Gildersleeve. 

"  Five  dollars  an  acre  !  "  shouted  Mixon.  "  You 
don't  touch  it  under  fifty  !  Do  you  Yankees  think  you 
can  set  our  niggers  free,  and  then  come  down  and  buy 
our  land,  that  has  been  in  our  families  for  generations, 
for  a  song  ?  Eh  ? " 

"  I  am  not  prepared  to  discuss  that  question  now," 
returned  Gildersleeve,  with  much  hauteur.  "  We  will 
offer  you  a  fair  market  price  for  your  land  if  we  decide 
to  buy.  Good  afternoon,  sir." 

"  Oh,  you  Yankees  are  a  sharp  set,  but  you  can't 
come  your  tricks  down  South,"  sneered  Mixon,  as  Gil 
dersleeve  turned  to  go. 

"  Mr.  Gildersleeve  !  Mr.  Gildersleeve  !  "  shouted  a 
familiar  voice  from  a  room  bordering  on  the  piazza. 
"  Mr.  Gildersleeve  !  wait  a  minute,  I  want  to  see  you,"' 
and  the  next  moment  Maurice  Graham  came  hastily 
out  of  the  house. 

"  How  d'ye  do,  Mr.  Graham  ;  I  hardly  expected  to 
see  you  here,"  said  Gildersleeve,  in  some  surprise. 

"  I  was  within,  attending  to  some  business  for  Ma 
jor  Mixon,  and  I  heard  your  voice.  Major,  I  am  sorry 
I  was  not  out  here  when  Mr.  Gildersleeve  first  came 


88  THE   SHADOW  OF    THE   WAR. 

up,  so  as  to  introduce  him  to  you.  He  is  a  particular 
friend  of  both  my  father  and  myself  ;  and  as  such," 
continued  Maurice,  with  marked  emphasis,  "  I  know 
he  will  meet  with  a  hearty  welcome  from  you,  such  as 
is  due  from  one  gentleman  to  the  friend  of  another 
gentleman." 

"  Of  course,  of  course,  Maurice,"  returned  the  Ma 
jor,  in  quite  an  altered  tone,  having  risen  from  his 
chair  while  Maurice  was  speaking.  "  Mr.  Gildersleeve, 
I  am  happy  to  meet  you,  sir,"  extending  his  hand. 
"  I  only  heard  of  you  in  a  business  way  through 
Gravoir,  you  know,  but  as  the  friend  of  Graham 
any  gentleman  is  welcome  to  my  house.  I  am 
sorry  you're  a  Yankee,  sir  ;  hanged  if  I  ain't !  But 
all  the  same,  sir,  yes  sir,  you  are  welcome  here,  sir, 
and  there's  my  hand  on  it,  sir." 

"  Thank  you,"  answered  Gildersleeve,  returning  the 
compliment,  and  now  rather  amused.  "  I  suppose 
I  should  have  brought  a  letter  of  introduction." 

"A  man  Has  to  be  careful  whom  he  knows,"  re 
joined  the  Major ;  "  so  many  carpet-baggers  around 
now-a-days,  you  see.  But  haven't  you  ladies  in  the 
carriage  ?  Won't  they  come  out  and  rest  themselves  ? 
My  wife  is  up-stairs,  but  in  a  few  minutes  she  will  re 
ceive  them." 

"  I  am  much  obliged  to  you,  Major  Mixon,"  an 
swered  Gildersleeve,  "  but  it  is  getting  rather  late,  and 
as  my  wife's  health  is  poor,  we  must  hurry  on  home. 
But  we  will  call  again." 

"'Do  so,  sir,  by  all  means  ;  I  shall  be  happy  to  see 
you  at  any  time.  Wait  a  minute,  I  shall  be  back  di 
rectly,"  and  the  Major  disappeared  in  the  house. 


A    SOUTHERN  FIRE-EATER.  89 

"  You  were  the  last  person  I  expected  to  meet  here," 
said  Gildersleeve,  turning  to  Maurice. 

"  Yes,  I  suppose  so,"  answered  the  latter.  "  Major 
Mixon  has  had  a  hard  time  with  his  laborers,  and  this 
morning  he  sent  down  for  Gravoir  to  come  up  and 
write  a  contract  and  give  him  some  advice.  Gravoir 
could  not  come,  so  he  sent  me  ;  but  I  have  nearly  fin 
ished  all  I  can  do,  and  it  only  remains  to  be  seen 
whether  those  negroes  will  accept  the  terms  to  be 
offered  them." 

"  How  long  will  you  be  here  ?" 

"  I  shall  have  to  stay  over  night ;  I  will  be  too  late 
to  catch  the  accommodation  train  from  this  point." 

"  Why  not  come  up  to  Belleville  and  spend  the  night 
with  us?  There's  a  seat  in  the  carriage." 

"  No,  I  couldn't  leave  now,  as  I  still  have  some 
work  here.  I  can  borrow  a  horse  from  Mixon,  and 
have  it  sent  down  in  the  morning,  though;  that  is,  if  it 
is  not  too  late  when  I  finish." 

'•  Oh,  yes,  you  must  come  ;  we  will  wait  supper,  so 
don't  mind  about  being  a  little  late." 

Here  Major  Mixon  returned  from  the  house,  bear 
ing  an  old  battered  silver  tray,  on  which  was  a  heavy 
cut-glass  decanter,  its  top  partly  broken  off,  and  a  few 
old-fashioned  wine-glasses,  the  whole  hinting  strongly 
of  a  decayed  splendor,  like  everything  else  on  the 
estate. 

"  Mr.  Gildersleeve,  here's  some  wine  I  can  recom 
mend.  It  belonged  to  a  lot  imported  long  before  the 
war,  and  my  family  saved  a  portion  by  burying  it  in  a 
rice-field.  Come  down  and  introduce  me  to  the  ladies. 
They  must  be  tired  after  their  long  ride,  and  a  glass 
of  wine  will  refresh  them." 


90  THE    SHADOW  OF  HE   TWAR. 

"  Certainly,  with  pleasure,"  replied  the  gentleman 
addressed.  When  the  introduction  was  effected,  the 
Major  pressed  the  wine  upon  the  ladies,  and  it  really 
being  excellent,  they  naturally  asked  many  questions 
about  its  history,  all  of  which  pleased  him  greatly,  and 
he  became  very  affable.  By  the  time  they  had  ex 
changed  farewell,  his  manner  was  even  warm  in  its 
sociability,  and  he  was  urgent  that  the  ladies  should 
call  again.  After  calling  to  Maurice,  who  stood  on 
the  piazza,  "  Be  sure  to  come  to-night,  for  we  will 
expect  you,"  Mr.  Gildersleeve  bade  the  coachman 
drive  on,  and  the  carriage  rolled  rapidly  away  toward 
the  avenue. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

ONE  OF  A  NEW  GENERATION. 

THE  afternoon  had  almost  worn  away,  when  Mau 
rice  Graham  mounted  a  horse  from  Major  Mixon's 
stable  and  set  out  for  Belleville.  The  day  had  been  a 
busy  one,  and  he  felt  a  trifle  wearied  at  the  conclusion 
of  its  labors.  But  what  was  a  little  fatigue  to  Maurice 
Graham  in  his  present  mood  ?  A  few  months  previous, 
he  probably  would  have  preferred  a  book  and  the 
blazing  logs  in  Major  Mixon's  sitting-room  to  a  long 
ride  through  a  dreary  forest  on  a  stormy  evening ; — 
for  soon  after  the  Gildersleeves'  departure  the  clouds 
began  to  gather  in  those  slaty  masses  which  always 
promise  rain.  But  Maurice  gave  no  heed  to  the  threat 
ened  storm,  or  to  his  weariness  ;  he  was  under  a  spell 
just  now  which  permitted  him  to  think  only  of  the 
pleasant  evening  he  should  enjoy  when  Belleville  was 
reached.  He  did,  however,  button  his  coat  a  little 
tighter  as  he  viewed  the  skies,  a  slight  acknowledg 
ment  of  their  unfavorable  aspect  ;  and  lighting  a  cigar 
to  console  him  during  the  loneliness  of  the  ride,  he 
cantered  rapidly  down  the  avenue. 

When,  at  the  age  of  twenty-one,  Colonel  Graham 
finished  his  collegiate  course,  he  had  gone  to  travel  for 
a  year  or  two  in  Europe,  according  to  the  custom  then 
in  vogue  among  the  wealthy  Carrollton  youth.  In 
England  he  met  a  young  lady  with  whom  he  fell  deeply 

(91) 


92  THE    SHADOW  OF    THE   WAR. 

in  love.  After  a  brief  courtship,  she  accepted  his  offer 
of  hand  and  heart  ;  but  the  marriage  was  postponed 
for  various  reasons.  He  came  back  to  Carrollton,  and 
at  once  entered  his  father's  counting-house  as  a  clerk  ; 
a  year  later  he  was  made  a  partner,  and  the  following 
year  he  returned  to  England  and  was  married  in  Liv 
erpool.  He  had  had  four  children,  of  whom  Maurice 
and  his  sister  Julie,  the  latter  now  some  seventeen  years 
old,  were  the  only  ones  living. 

Thus  it  can  be  easily  understood  why  Mrs.  Graham 
wished  her  son  to  be  educated  in  England,  and  at  the 
age  of  fourteen  Maurice  was  sent  over  to  be  placed  at 
school  under  the  supervision  of  his  mother's  relatives. 
The  war  beginning,  his  father  would  not  hear  of  his 
return.  Colonel  Graham  foresaw  that  the  disordered 
condition  of  the  States  would  interfere  with  his  educa 
tion,  and  he  feared  that  the  lad's  hot  blood  would  be 
too  easily  worked  upon  by  the  events  of  the  day.  So 
he  peremptorily  ordered  him  to  remain  in  England,  the 
agent  in  charge  of  Mrs.  Graham's  property  there  being 
instructed  to  provide  for  his  expenses.  In  due  time 
Maurice  went  to  college,  but  he  was  a  very  dissatisfied 
young  person.  His  most  pleasing  occupation  at  this 
period  was  to  scan  the  newspapers  for  the  latest  Amer 
ican  news,  and  after  reading  of  some  terrible  battle,  he 
would  sit  down  with  a  throbbing  head  and  a  beating 
heart  and  write  to  his  father,  imploring  permission  to 
return  home  and  enter  the  Confederate  service.  But 
Colonel  Graham  was  away  off  in  Virginia,  and  often 
Maurice's  letters  never  reached  him  ;  or  when  they  did 
the  father  would  answer  them  firmly  that  he  must  stay 
where  he  was ;  that  his  single  arm  could  be  of  little 
service  ;  that  his  State  would  need  educated  men  when 


ONE   OF  A   NEW  GENERATION.  93 

the  struggle  was  over  ;  that  his  mother  was  liable  to  be 
left  a  widow  at  any  moment,  and  that  he  should  keep 
steadily  at  work  to  fit  himself  for  possible  responsibil 
ities  in  the  future.  A  year  or  two  passed,  and  grad 
ually  Maurice  recognized  the  reasonableness  of  his 
father's  views.  Until  then,  he  had  taken  very  little 
interest  in  his  studies,  but  instead  had  indulged  freely 
in  aquatic  and  other  sports.  But  when  at  last  his  heart 
accepted  his  father's  commands,  though  the  desire 
was  still  strong  to  don  the  Confederate  gray,  he  became 
studious,  and  applied  himself  so  closely  that  his  pro 
gress  was  rapid.  Running  through  the  usual  course, 
he  graduated  a  year  after  the  war.  About  this  time, 
Colonel  Graham  went  over  to  England  on  business, 
and  Maurice's  first  intention  was  to  accompany  him  on 
his  return  home  ;  but  when  his  father  had  disclosed  his 
wishes  regarding  the  future,  he  was  induced  to  alter  the 
hastily-formed  plans.  Maurice  had  chosen  to  study 
law,  to  which  his  father  did  not  object  ;  but  Colonel 
Graham  felt  that  his  son  was  still  young,  and  for  a  year 
or  two  more  could  advantageously  continue  his  studies 
in  Europe.  So  finally  Maurice  settled  down  at  a  Ger 
man  university,  and  began  to  study  the  language, 
together  with  the  fundamental  branches  of  law.  His 
application  was  steady,  he  remained  free  from  bad 
habits,  and  the  time  was  spent  profitably.  At  last  the 
two  years  were  over,  and  with  a  joy  he  could  never  for 
get  in  after  life,  he  stepped  aboard  an  ocean  steamer 
bound  for  New  York.  He  had  undergone  a  curious 
development  in  these  years  of  absence.  He  had  left 
home  as  a  Southerner,  worshipping  with  boyish  enthu 
siasm  everything  that  pertained  to  his  city  and  State  ; 
but  as  he  sailed  up  the  bay  of  our  great  metropolis,  he 


94  THE   SHADOW  OF    THE   WAR. 

realized  that  he  was  an  American,  and  he  rejoiced  in 
his  nationality. 

When  he  arrived  in  Carrollton,  and  was  clasped  in 
his  mother's  passionate  embrace,  she  hardly  knew  her 
boy,  such  a  change  had  been  wrought  in  his  appear 
ance  ;  but  she  forgot  the  long  years  of  separation,  as 
she  looked  upon  his  vigorous  manhood  and  knew  him 
to  be  thoroughly  educated  and  prepared  for  the  duties 
of  life.  She  thought  him  "a  splendid  young  fellow." 

Shortly  after  returning  home,  he  entered  the  law 
office  of  Mr.  Francis  Gravoir,  with  whom  he  studied 
for  two  years,  when  he  passed  his  examinations  and 
was  admitted  to  the  bar.  Opening  an  office  for  him 
self,  his  father's  influence  threw  in  his  way  a  little  bus 
iness,  which  soon  grew  into  a  fairly  remunerative  prac 
tice.  He  began  to  acquire  some  distinction,  and  a  year 
back  he  had  gained  considerable  reputation  by  his 
management  of  a  political  case  which  attracted  atten 
tion.  Early  in  the  present  summer,  he  and  his  former 
teacher  had  entered  into  a  copartnership,  and  already 
the  firm  of  Gravoir  &  Graham  was  considered  to  be 
one  of  the  strongest  in  Carrollton. 

Since  the  memorable  meeting  off  Carrollton  harbor, 
the  Gildersleeves  had  seen  Maurice  Graham  fre 
quently.  He  was  now  a  constant  visitor  at  their  house 
in  Belleville,  and  the  acquaintance,  happily  begun 
under  such  trying  circumstances,  was  fast  ripening 
into  a  warm  friendship  on  both  sides.  It  is  not  sur 
prising  that  the  family  found  pleasure  in  his  company, 
for  he  was  gifted  with  a  natural -yet  dignified  amiability 
which  was  almost  contagious  and  which  lent  him  a 
personal  charm  that  rarely  failed  to  find  acknowledg 
ment.  His  manners  were  not  only  finely  cultivated, 


ONE   OF  A    NEW  GENERATION.  95 

but  were  marked  by  a  softness  and  grace  especially 
pleasing  to  women,  and  that  often  led  strangers  to  ask, 
"  Who  is  he  ? "  Always  fond  of  books,  Maurice  had 
acquired  a  variety  of  information,  but  in  addition  he 
possessed  marked  ability  for  his  years,  his  being  one 
of  those  quick  comprehensive  minds  which  require 
little  exertion  to  master  a  subject.  Educated  as  he 
had  been,  he  was  fortunately  free  from  that  provincial 
ism  so  distinctive  of  past  generations.  He  belonged 
to  a  new  class  of  Southern  men,  just  assuming  their 
positions,  who  knew  of  past  issues  only  as  history,  and 
who  experienced  keenly  the  stimulus  of  youthful  am 
bition  to  secure  for  themselves  a  future  and  a  name. 
He  was,  pre-eminently,  of  the  New  South. 

Among  women,  as  might  be  supposed,  Maurice  was 
a  great  favorite,  and  for  a  few  years  after  his  return 
from  England  he  was  quite  devoted  to  the  sex  ;  but  of 
late,  society  got  little  of  his  time.  So  far,  no  face  had 
appeared  to  attract  him  particularly,  and  his  family  had 
often  wondered  when  his  fastidious  nature  would  meet 
its  mate.  Only  recently  did  they  suspect  how  inti 
mately  the  beautiful  face  of  Hortense  Gildersleeve  was 
becoming  woven  with  his  thoughts.  Maurice  himself 
was  just  beginning  to  feel  that  he  was  on  dangerous 
ground,  but,  so  strange  is  the  perversity  of  human  na 
ture,  he  shrank  from  admitting  the  possibility  of  his 
falling  in  love.  He  saw  in  her,  as  he  would  tell  him 
self,  merely  a  girl  whom  he  could  greatly  admire.  .  She 
was  womanly,  she  had  all  that  reserve  and  dignity 
which  so  well  grace  a  woman,  but  her  vivacious  mind 
sparkled  with  an  originality  that  equalled  his  own  and 
sometimes  dazzled  him.  He  had  never  before  met  so 
brilliant  a  woman  near  his  own  age,  and  yet  one  to 
G 


96  THE   SHADOW  OF   THE   WAR. 

whom  society  seemed  distasteful.  That  a  young 
woman  who  was  accomplished  and  beautiful,  with  the 
advantages  of  wealth  and  position,  should  like  to  shine 
and  be  appreciated,  seemed  natural  to  him  ;  and  at  first 
he  could  scarcely  understand  Hortense's  indifference 
to  the  attentions  of  men.  Already  she  had,  politely  it 
is  true,  snubbed  several  with  great  unconcern  ;  and  the 
fact  that  she  was  gracious  to  him,  while  it  pleased  his 
vanity,  did  not  affect  the  contrast  she  presented  to  the 
usual  class  of  women.  Maurice  had  really  acquired  a 
certain  good-natured  contempt  for  most  society  misses, 
regarding  them  much  as  he  would  some  gayly  plum- 
aged  bird — pretty  enough,  but  scarcely  worth  the  trou 
ble  and  vexation  of  ownership  for  life.  Still,  no  one 
ever  noticed  on  his  part  the  condescension  which  such 
a  feeling  is  apt  to  engender.  He  was  naturally,  and 
by  breeding,  enough  of  a  courtier  not  to  fall  into  that 
error.  Miss  Gildersleeve,  however,  was  quite  a  reve 
lation  to  him ;  without  analyzing  his  thoughts,  he 
instinctively  recognized  those  gifts  of  mind  and  that 
force  of  character  which  naturally  placed  their  pos 
sessor  upon  his  own  level. 

Some  men  can  love  only  those  women  who  are 
clinging  in  their  tendencies  ;  any  equality  of  strength 
repulses  them.  Graham's  feelings  were  not  of  this 
order.  The  society  of  a  woman  must  be  companion 
able  in  order  that  it  should  be  especially  agreeable  to 
him  ;  she  must  not  only  want  sympathy,  but  she  must 
be  sympathetic  herself,  and  be  capable  of  understand 
ing  those  things  which  gave  him  pleasure  ;  he  must 
feel  the  presence  of  an  equal.  This  it  was  about  Hor- 
tense  that  made  her  so  fascinating  ;  her  strength,  very 
quietly  manifested  and  never  assuming,  compelled  him 


ONE   OF  A   NEW  GENERATION.  97 

to  yield  her  deference,  and  while  he  could  not  wholly 
understand  her — a  source  of  allurement  in  itself, — she 
possessed  a  capability  of  entering  into  his  moods,  of 
not  only  appreciating  his  thoughts  but  sometimes  of 
developing  them,  and  all  with  a  naturalness  and  in 
terest  which  made  him  forget  that  these  are  the  very 
qualities  that  distinguish  the  most  successful  flirts. 
He  was  already  too  deeply  involved  to  be  able  to  think 
of  anything  except  the  delight  of  her  society  ;  but  he 
unconsciously  acknowledged  her  an  equal  who  never 
forced  him  to  talk  of  commonplaces  to  fill  up  time. 
Yet  she  was  crowned  with  the  sweetest  attractions  of 
sex.  Her  vivacity  charmed  him,  and  her  face,  in 
its  wondrous  play  of  expression,  was  a  study  in  which 
he  was  beginning  to  linger.  Her  beauty  he  had  ac 
knowledged  at  their  first  meeting,  and  her  face  was 
well  set  off  by  a  tall  and  gracefully  outlined  figure,  that 
had  much  ease  of  manner.  Maurice  had  a  real  admi 
ration  for  beautiful  women  ;  but  beauty  alone  soon 
wearied  him.  Hortense  possessed  much  more  than 
regular  features  and  a  shapely  figure  to  attract  a  man 
of  his  nature.  He  felt  when  with  her  a  sympathy  of 
thought  and  a  congeniality  of  spirit  that  he  had  never 
experienced  before  ;  and  though  he  would  not  listen 
to  the  questionings  of  his  own  heart,  Maurice  Graham 
was  getting  deeper  in  love  each  day.  But  the  awaken 
ing  was  soon  to  come. 

Maurice  had  never  yet  spent  the  night  at  the  Gild- 
ersleeves,  although  on  several  occasions  he  had  been 
pressed  to  do  so,  preferring  the  accommodation  of  a 
boarding-house.  This  evening,  after  some  delibera 
tion,  he  decided  to  accept  Mr.  Gildersleeve's  invitation  ; 
but  on  reaching  that  conclusion  he  could  not  refrain 


THE   SHADOW  OF    THE   WAR. 


from  smiling.  Hortense  had  been  talking  to  him  about 
the  ghost.  In  some  way,  contrary  to  Mr.  Gildersleeve's 
injunctions,  the  story  had  leaked  out,  but  so  fragmen- 
tarily  that  the  family  regarded  the  matter  only  as 
laughable,  and  when  -Maurice  had  once  or  twice 
declined  to  stay  over  night,  Hortense,  with  mock  earn 
estness,  had  charged  him  with  fear  of  the  ghost,  to  his 
great  amusement. 

Contrary  to  the  opinions  of  the  Rev.  Mr.  Tomkins, 
and  the  sage  advice  he  had  given  the  servants,  nothing 
occurred  to  disturb  the  peaceful  slumbers  of  the  Gild- 
ersleeve  family.  On  each  successive  morning,  the 
negroes,  as  they  came  to  their  work,  confidently  expected 
to  hear  of  some  dreadful  disaster  happening  during 
the  night,  "up  at  de  house."  But  the  quiet  of  early 
dawn  would  prevail  over  the  premises  when  they  arrived, 
and  the  day  would  wear  on  without  any  unusual  devel 
opment.  As  is  common  in  such  extremes  of  morbid 
feeling,  their  views  soon  reacted  to  an  opposite  tend 
ency,  in  which  the  element  of  disappointment  was  con 
spicuous.  The  ghost  lost  much  respectability  each 
day,  and  Pompey  began  to  scoff  openly.  The  cook 
would  not  go  so  far  ;  "  p'r'aps,"  said  she  "de  ole  lady 
ain't  got  no  spite  on  Yankees."  At  all  events,  by  the 
end  of  the  first  two  weeks  of  the  Gildersleeves'  stay, 
nothing  had  happened,  and  the  reputation  of  the  house 
seemed  restored. 


CHAPTER  X. 

SOME  DELUSIONS  EXPLODED. 

MAURICE  GRAHAM  reached  the  house  of  his 
friends  none  too  soon,  the  rain  beginning  to 
fall  as  he  rode  rapidly  into  the  yard.  Calling  hastily 
for  a  servant,  he  gave  the  horse  to  his  care,  and  directly 
after  he  was  in  the  comfortable  sitting-room,  and  before 
the  fire.  A  few  minutes  later,  supper  was  served  ;  and 
near  its  close  Mrs.  Gildersleeve  remarked  : 

"  I  am  so  sorry,  Mr.  Graham,  that  we  have  no 
haunted  room  to  offer  you  to-night.  I  suppose  you 
know  that  the  mystery  about  the  house  has  been 
explained  ?  " 

"  No,  I  did  not.  I  thought  the  tale  a  good  joke  on 
a  few  credulous  people.  What  is  it  ? " 

"  Now,  mother,  you  will  spoil  everything,"  said  Hor- 
tense,  in  affected  displeasure.  "  I  had  such  plans  to 
test  his  bravery  !  " 

"  We  had  been  here  two  or  three  weeks,"  continued 
Mrs.  Gildersleeve,  not  noticing  the  interruption,  "before 
we  could  understand  the  story.  But  nothing  happened, 
and  the  negroes  gradually  regained  their  courage.  A 
few  nights  ago,  a  wind  storm  came  along  just  as  we 
were  going  to  bed,  and  we  heard  the  most  fearful 
noises  in  the  garret.  Mr.  Gildersleeve  went  up,  but  he 
could  discover  nothing  for  some  time.  Finally  he  stood 
close  to  an  open  chimney,  and  what  do  you  think  he 

(99) 


100  THE   SHADOW  OF    THE   WAR. 

found  to  be  the  cause  ?  Why,  that  enormous  big  tree 
alongside  of  the  house !  You  know,  some  of  the 
branches  overhang  the  roof  and  curve  around  the 
chimneys.  Well,  the  wind  swayed  them  to  and  fro, 
and  their  creakings  and  groanings  came  through  the 
chimneys,  and  what  with  the  echoes  in  these  large  halls, 
a  very  dismal  sound  was  produced." 

"  Next  morning  I  had  them  all  sawed  off,  and  the 
chimneys  closed,"  said  her  husband.  "That  put  an 
end  to  one  more  ghost  story.  But  it  is  wonderful  to 
think  how  scared  those  negroes  were." 

After  supper,  when  they  had  all  returned  to  the 
sitting-room,  the  conversation  naturally  fell  upon  the 
events  of  the  day.  Mr.  Gildersleeve  desired  to  learn 
something  of  the  trouble  between  Major  Mixon  and 
his  turpentine  laborers. 

"  I  am  afraid  there  will  be  more  trouble  between 
them,"  said  Maurice.  "You  see,  the  negroes  have  been 
induced  to  strike  for  an  increase  of  wages,  which 
Mixon  declines  to  give.  Fortunately  for  him,  the  busi 
ness  is  such  just  now  that  he  can  afford  to  stop  tem 
porarily.  But  he  is  a  very  determined  man,  and  will 
never  budge  one  inch  from  his  present  position.  The 
negroes,  on  the  other  hand,  seem  to  be  getting  a  little 
excited.  They  are  under  the  control  of  one  or  two 
unscrupulous  men,  both  white  and  black.  By  the  way, 
one  of  the  most  reckless  of  their  advisers  is  the  Rev. 
Tomkins,  of  this  town.  Haven't  you  heard  of  him  ?  " 

"  No,"  answered  Gildersleeve,  in  blissful  ignorance 
of  where  his  provisions  were  going.  "  Who  is  he  ? " 

"  He  is  the  preacher  at  that  colored  church  on  the 
hill  ;  and  a  more  cunning  and  dangerous  man  there  is 
not  in  this  county.  He  has  not  the  intelligence  of 


SOME  DELUSIONS  EXPLODED.  101 

some  of  the  brighter  lights  of  his  party,  but  he  is  crafty, 
and  exerts  a  wonderful  influence  over  the  blacks.  I 
would  not  be  surprised  if  this  same  fellow  is  causing 
all  the  trouble  between  Mixon  and  his  men,  perhaps 
through  orders  from  his  superiors.  At  any  rate,  Mixon 
thinks  so,  and  he  is  just  pining  for  a  good  excuse  to 
lay  his  hands  on  that  darkey.  I  am  sorry  for  Brother 
Tomkins  if  Mixon  once  gets  a  good  hold  on  him." 

"  You  surely  don't  mean  that  there  is  any  danger  of 
violence  ? "  asked  Mr.  Gildersleeve. 

"  Indeed,  I  do,"  replied  Maurice  ;  "  here  is  the  issue, 
presented  not  only  in  our  immediate  vicinity,  but  all 
over  the  State  :  There  is  Mixon,  a  hot-headed  man, 
with  little  or  no  discretion,  having  a  supreme  contempt 
for  the  negro,  and  believing  himself  the  victim  of 
wholesale  robbery.  In  politics  this  negro  enjoys 
supremacy  over  his  former  master,  and  endeavors 
to  dictate  business  terms  to  his  employer.  The  negro 
is  ignorant,  full  of  passions,  and  has  an  exaggerated 
notion  of  his  rights.  Between  the  two  comes  the  art 
ful  demagogue.  Is  there  any  wonder,  then,  that  the 
color-line  is  sharply  drawn  ?  We  -must  bear  in  mind 
that  a  general  election  takes  place  next  year,  and  we 
can  understand  why  the  radicals  desire  to  keep  this 
line  distinct.  Several  difficulties  have  already  occurred 
in  other  localities,  and  it  would  not  surprise  me  in  the 
least  to  hear  that  some  of  Mixon's  property  was  burned 
or  his  stock  shot." 

"  But  is  not  the  law  able  to  restrain  these  men  ? 
And  besides,  do  you  really  hold  the  negro  character  to 
be  so  disposed  to  evil  ?  " 

"  They  are  an  extremely  ignorant  set  of  people,  not 
naturally  vicious,  with  a  dull  perception  of  right  and 


102  THE   SHADOW  OF   THE    WAR. 

wrong,"  answered  Maurice.  "  They  believe  that  as 
Lincoln  and  Grant  gave  them  freedom  and  political 
supremacy,  so  also  they  will  sustain  them  in  the  prose 
cution  of  their  present  fancied  rights.  And  I  know 
that  there  are  a  number  of  shrewd  and  unscrupulous 
men  who,  for  political  purposes,  devote  their  whole 
energies  to  widening  this  breach.  As  for  the  law,  you 
will  see  more  clearly  the  longer  you  stay  among  us, 
how  inefficient  it  is,  as  at  present  wielded,  to  restrain 
those  whose  votes  sustain  its  executives." 

"  It  is  certainly  a  sad  condition  of  affairs,  and  no 
doubt  you  are  correct  in  the  main  ;  but  I  cannot  think 
that  all  the  fault  is  on  the  side  of  the  negro." 

"  Nor  do  I  maintain  that.  I  frankly  admit  that  if 
Major  Mixon  had  more  discretion  and  tact,  he  might 
avert  some  of  his  difficulties.  But  he  is  not  such  a 
man,  and  the  whole  force  of  his  education  and  early 
ideas  is  too  great  to  allow  him  to  reason  with  his  former 
slaves.  In  fact,  that  is  the  very  problem  which  has 
now  to  be  solved  in  the  South.  All  through  the  for 
mer  slave  states  are  men  like  Major  Mixon,  and  only 
a  strong  popular  sentiment  can  prevent  collisions  be 
tween  these  two  elements.  Happily,  that  sentiment  is 
growing  every  day." 

The  servant  here  entered  the  sitting-room  and  said: 

"  Mass'  Gillersleebe,  dere's  a  culled  genelman  wot 
wants  fur  ter  see  yer." 

"Who  is  he?" 

"Brudder  Tomkins,  sah,  our  preacher." 

"  Light  the  lamps  in  the  parlor,  and  show  him  in 
there  ;  I  have  company  here." 

Directly  after,  Mr.  Gildersleeve  followed  the  ser 
vant  into  the  parlor,  an  adjoining  room  with  folding 


SOME  DELUSIONS  EXPLODED.  103 

doors,  which  he  left  partially  open.  Thus,  while  the 
occupants  of  the  two  rooms  could  not  see  each  other, 
any  conversation  in  the  one  was  distinctly  audible  in 
the  next. 

Tomkins  was  already  in  the  parlor  when  Mr.  Gil- 
dersleeve  entered.  He  was  arrayed  in  bright  checked 
pantaloons,  yellow  brogans,  frock  coat  greatly  the 
worse  for  wear  and  much  too  long  for  the  reverend 
brother,  hanging  limp  below  his  knees.  A  crumpled 
collar,  showing  here  and  there  the  presence  of  starch, 
surmounted  the  coat  and  rose  up  to  the  chin,  being  set 
off  in  front  by  a  large  black  tie.  In  one  hand  he  bore 
a  tall  and  battered  "  stove-pipe  "  hat.  Brother  Tom- 
kins,  however,  seemed  much  satisfied  with  his  appear 
ance,  for  he  came  forward  with  sleek  complacency. 

"  You  want  to  see  me  ?  "  inquired  Mr.  Gildersleeve. 

"Yes,  sah,"  answered  Tomkins,  bowing  pompously. 
"  I'se  been  opprised  ob  de  fac',  dat  under  de  guidance 
ob  de  blessed  Lord,  dat  yer  hab  'stablished  yerse'f  in 
dis  yar  State  as  a  citizen."  Tomkins  paused  a  mo 
ment  as  if  in  meditation.  "  So  de  idea  did  enter  my 
mind,"  he  continued,  "  dat  I  would  come  an'  conwerse 
wid  yer  on  de  sitivation  ob  our  onhappy  country,  since 
I  heard  dat  yer  was  a  genelman  ob  onusual  concern 
ment." 

"Well,  I  am  engaged  this  evening.  Still,  if  you 
have  anything  important  to  say,  I  will  spare  you  a 
little  time.  Take  a  seat." 

For  a  moment  Tomkins  was  astounded.  To  sit 
down  in  the  white  folks'  house  !  in  their  very  pres 
ence  !  It  was  something  he  had  never  heard  of  before. 
But  he  was  a  shrewd  negro,  and  the  reflection  quickly 
passed  through  his  mind,  "dese  people  is  Yankees, 


104  THE   SHADOW  OF   THE   WAR. 

friens  to  de  nigger,"  and  he  took  the  chair  with  his 
self-esteem  considerably  increased.  Drawing  from  his 
pocket  a  large  red  kerchief,  he  wiped  his  face  vigor 
ously  and  proceeded  gravely  : 

"  Dis  country,  sah,  is  bery  onhappy  conditioned. 
De  culled  folks  aint  hab  de  liberty  an'  reposure  ob  dere 
bodies  dats  'clared  by  de  fifteenth  commandment." 

"  Fifteenth  what  ?  "  interrupted  Mr.  Gildersleeve. 

"Commandment,  sah,"  answered  the  darkey. 

"Amendment,  you  mean." 

"  Yes,  sah,  dat'a  it,  all  de  same,"  replied  Tomkins, 
without  the  least  confusion. 

"  How  are  you  abused  ?  " 

"  It's  all  'long  ob  de  buckra,  sah,  de  white  folks, 
you  know.  Dey's  plannin'  all  de  time  ter  mek  de 
culled  mens  vote  fur  dem,  an*  dey  mek  us  work  fur 
dem,  an'  den  dey  won't  pay  what  de  work  is  wuth. 
Dey  wants  de  culled  people  ter  work  fur  nuthin',  an' 
I'se  advise  all  my  friens  dat  dey  musn't  surrender  dere 
liberties  ter  de  enemy,  but  pray  ter  de  Lord  Jesus  fur 
help.  I  t'ought  dat  p'raps  yer  might  come  out  an'  gib 
some  advise  ter  de  culled  folks,  seein'  dat  you'se  a 
'publikan, — an'  mebbe,"  he  added,  winking  his  eye 
knowingly,  "de  culled  folks  won't  furgit  dere  frien 
when  de  next  'lection  come." 

"  I  am  not  a  politician,  and  I  could  not  make  any 
public  appearance,  if  that  is  what  you  wish.  I  can 
only  advise  you  people  to  arrange  your  affairs  with 
your  employers  and  go  to  work.  If  you  have  griev 
ances,  lay  them  before  the  proper  authorities  ;  your 
party  controls  this  State,  and  should  be  able  to  give 
you  redress.  I  am  only  a  private  citizen,  not  a  politi- 
'cian ;  furthermore,  I  am  hardly  yet  a  citizen.  If  you 


SOME  DELUSIONS  EXPLODED.  105 

have  any  special  individual  grievance,  and  wish  my 
advice,  I  will  give  it  cheerfully  ;  but  beyond  that  I  do 
not  see  how  I  can  help  you." 

"  But  I'se  informed,"  returned  Tomkins,  "  dat 
you'se  a  man  ob  means,  an'  dat  you'se  from  de  coun 
try  ob  Mass  Linkum.  Now,  if  yer  come  out  an'  tell 
de  culled  folks  ter  stan'  fast,  an'  not  let  Mass'  Mixon 
turn  'em  back  ter  slabery  agin,  yer  inflooence  will  help 
us  a  good  sight,  an'  Mass  Mixon  will  see  dat  he's  on 
de  weak  side.  An'  den  yer  kin  show  de  members  ob 
de  'publikin  party  dat  you'se  fur  dem,  an'  dese  niggers 
'round  yar  won't  furgit  it." 

"  I  have  already  told  you  that  I  am  not  in  politics, 
and  you  must  excuse  me.  That  is  all  I  have  to  say. 
If  you  want  individual  advice,  as  I  said  before,  I  will 
give  it  if  I  can  ;  but  if  you  want  political  guidance 
you  must  seek  it  from  your  leaders." 

"  Take  care,  sah  !  "  exclaimed  Tomkins,  extending 
his  forefinger  in  a  rather  threatening  manner.  The 
politeness  with  which  his  proposal  had  been  refused, 
rendered  him  bold,  ajid  he  was  determined  that  he 
should  not  be  misunderstood.  "  Take  care,  sah  !  "  he 
repeated  ;  "  a  genelman  in  yer  position  kin  go  ter  de 
legislature  ef  he  meks  de  right  friens,  an'  ef  yer  help 
me  now  I  kin  help  yer  in  de  party." 

This  time  Mr.  Gildersleeve  was  annoyed  by  the  fel 
low's  pertinacity  and  demeanor.  He  showed  no  sign  of 
it,  however,  but  rising  from  his  seat  he  looked  at  his 
watch  and  remarked  : 

"  I  must  decline  your  proposition.  I  have  a  further 
engagement  to-night,  and  can  not  spare  you  any  more 
of  my  time.  Good-evening." 

Tomkins  rose  and  looked  astonished  ;  but  he  did 


106  THE   SHADOW  OF   THE   WAR. 

not  move  to  go,  and  seemed  irresolute.  He  knew  of 
Mr.  Gildersleeve  as  a  rich  man,  a  Yankee — how  much 
did  not  that  imply  to  a  man  like  Tomkins  ! — and 
bright  visions  had  floated  through  his  mind  of  what 
the  local  leaders  would  owe  him  if  he  was  the  first  to 
introduce  such  a  proselyte  into  the  party.  And  then, 
too,  it  would  be  fine  for  him  if  he  should  become  the 
right-hand  man  of  Mr.  Gildersleeve.  He  was  not  will 
ing  to  yield  so  quickly,  but  was  about  to  speak  again 
when  Mr.  Gildersleeve  pulled  the  bell-rope  ;  and  the 
servant,  who  had  stationed  himself  outside  to  take  in 
the  conversation,  appeared  after  a  respectable  delay. 

"  Show  Mr.  Tomkins  the  door,"  said  Mr.  Gilder 
sleeve  ;  and  the  preacher,  seeing  that  further  persever 
ance  was  useless,  picked  up  his  hat  and  was  gone. 

When  Mr.  Gildersleeve  returned  to  the  sitting-room, 
he  found  his  guest  and  family  almost  choking  with  sup 
pressed  laughter  ;  every  word  of  the  conversation  had 
been  plainly  audible  to  them. 

"So  you  are  going  to  the  legislature,  father?" 
laughed  Hortense.  "What  a  wise  Solon  !  They'll 
send  you  to  Congress  next,  if  you  are  not  careful." 

"  Did  you  ever  hear  anything  like  the  impudence  of 
that  fellow  ?  "  returned  her  father.  "  Why,  he  actually 
offered  me  a  political  bribe  !  " 

Maurice  smiled,  but  said  nothing. 

Ten  or  fifteen  minutes  after  Tomkins  left,  the  ser 
vant  entered,  bearing  the  evening  mail  for  Mr.  Gilder 
sleeve.  It  consisted  of  a  letter  and  several  newspa 
pers.  Excusing  himself,  and  remarking,  "  Here's  a  let 
ter  for  me  from  Ernest,  Hortense,"  he  broke  the  seal 
and  began  reading.  Suddenly  he  looked  up. 


SOME  DELUSIONS  EXPLODED.  ]Q7 

"  What  in  the  world  can  be  the  matter  with  Ernest  ?" 
he  exclaimed. 

The  remark  was  abrupt,  and  its  tone  conveyed  some 
alarm.  In  an  instant  Hortense  was  beside  her  father's 
chair,  with  her  hand  on  his  shoulder  and  a  look  of  anx 
iety  on  her  face. 

"  He  is  not  sick,  father  ?  "  asked  she. 

"  Oh,  pshaw  !  no,  Hortense !  Sit  down,  and  don't 
get  alarmed  about  the  fellow.  You  two  make  more 
fuss  over  each  other  than  any  pair  of  lovers  I  ever  saw. 
I  don't  see  why  you  don't  marry.  If  I  had  played  the 
part  of  cruel  father,  you  would  have  been  married 
long  ago." 

"  Father  !  "  she  repeated  twice,  in  a  horrified 
tone. 

"  Oh,  well,  you  young  people  will  be  foolish." 

"Please  stop  talking  about  that,  and  tell  me  of 
Ernest.  What  is  the  matter  with  him  ?  " 

"  Why,  just  this  :  he  wants  to  borrow  a  large  sum 
of  money.  He  merely  says  that  a  miscalculation 
of  his  resources  has  forced  him  to  make  the  request." 

"  And  you  will  let  him  have  it?  " 

"  Certainly  I  will  ;  but  after  all  the  offers  I  have  made 
the  boy,  I  feel  a  little  surprised  that  a  man  of  his  cau 
tious  habits  should  get  himself  so  much  embarrassed. 
I  hope  he  is  not  repeating  what  happened  last  year.  I 
will  write  and  telegraph  this  evening." 

Involuntarily,  while  her  father  was  bantering 
her,  Hortense  had  glanced  at  Maurice,  and  she  saw 
enough  in  his  countenance  to  frighten  her.  What 
before  had  been  suspicion  was  now  certainty.  In  his 
changed  expression,  in  the  anxious  and  worried  look 


108  THE    SHADOW  OF   THE   WAR. 

from  his  eyes,  she  read  his  secret  with  a  woman's  wit ; 
and  as  she  read,  a  sharp  pain  smote  her. 

But  lightly  remarking,  "  You  are  real  good,  father," 
she  drew  her  hand  caressingly  across  his  brow  ;  then 
she  made  some  slight  excuse  to  leave  the  room. 

Once  in  the  hall,  she  passed  rapidly  to  the  front 
door  and  out  on  the  piazza.  Rain  was  falling  and  the 
wind  was  boisterous,  but  Hortense  felt  almost  feverish 
as  she  leaned  her  cheek  against  the  cold  pillar.  "  I  want 
to  think  !  "  she  said  to  herself,  with  the  tears  gathering 
in  her  eyes.  "  Poor  fellow  !  how  sorry  I  feel  for  him  ! 
He  is  so  good,  so  noble  !  Oh,  why  did  it  happen,  for 
it  could  never,  never  be  !  oh,  never  !  "  she  cried  almost 
hysterically,  burying  her  face  in  her  hands  ;  and  then 
this  girl,  so  haughty  and  reserved  before  the  world, 
sobbed  convulsively.  A  minute  passed,  while  her  whole 
frame  seemed  shaken  with  emotion.  Gradually  the 
struggle  subsided,  and  she  grew  quieter.  For  a  moment 
she  even  smiled  slightly  through  her  tears,  with  the 
natural  vanity  of  a  woman  at  her  own  keen  perception, 
as  she  thought :  "How  stupid  father  is,  with  all  his 
wisdom  !  He  thinks  Maurice  Graham  comes  here  to 
talk  politics  with  him.  Oh,  were  it  only  so  !  "  and  the 
girl  almost  broke  down  again.  "  After  all,  which  one 
is  the  best  ? "  she  mused.  "  But  no,  I  must  not 
falter  now.  I  must  do  my  duty.  I  could  not  tell 
him  as  he  wished,  and  I  mus,t  spare  him  the  pain  and 
mortification."  Resting  her  hand  on  her  brow  for 
a  few  seconds,  she  seemed  to  think.  "  I  have  it  now," 
she  mused  ;  "  I  see  what  I  must  do,  and  do  it  this  very 
evening,  before  he  makes  it  too  late  !"  As  if  satisfied 
with  her  decision  she  busied  herself  in  drying  her  tears. 


SOME  DELUSIONS  EXPLODED.  109 

Returning  to  the  hallway,  she  ran  rapidly  up  to  her 
room,  looked  in  her  glass,  then  turned  to  a  wash-basin 
and  bathed  those  blue  eyes  until  not  a  vestige  of  the  late 
tears  remained.  Then  she  went  leisurely  down-stairs, 
and  entered  the  sitting-room  as  composedly  as  if  noth 
ing  had  happened. 


CHAPTER  XI. 

MISS  GILDERSLEEVE  MAKES  A  CONFESSION. 

WHEN  Hortense  returned  to  the  sitting-room, 
her  mother  had  retired,  excusing  herself  to 
her  guest,  with  the  remark,  "  I  am  an  invalid,  you 
know,  Mr.  Graham,  and  must  keep  early  hours."  Her 
father  was  writing  his  telegram,  and  Maurice  sat  at  a 
table  with  a  newspaper. 

"Mr.  Graham,"  said  Hortense,  "  come  into  the  par 
lor  and  play  that  waltz  I  took  such  a  fancy  to  when 
you  were  here  last." 

Maurice  possessed  quite  a  good  ear  for  music,  and 
performed  fairly  well  both  upon  the  piano  and  the  flute. 
He  also  sang  a  tenor,  but  his  voice  had  not  been  highly 
cultivated.  Perhaps  a  home  education — for  all  his 
family  were  musical — might  have  stimulated  him  to  a 
more  complete  development  of  his  natural  talent.  He 
had,  however,  so  true  an  ear  as  almost  to  make  up  for 
the  deficiency  of  study,  at  least  as  far  as  his  own  pleas 
ure  and  that  of  most  amateurs  was  concerned.  Hor- 
tense's  voice  was  a  contralto  of  much  sweetness  and 
force,  and  it  had  been  well-trained.  Both  were  fond 
of  music,  and  at  almost  every  one  of  his  visits  Maurice 
and  she  had  sung  together. 

"  Certainly  I  will,"  he  answered,  following  her  into 
the  parlor.  "But  don't  you  want  the  lamps  lit?" 
They  had  been  extinguished  after  Tomkins'  departure, 

(110) 


AffSS  GILDERSLEEVE  MAKES  A  CONFESSION.   \\\ 

and  the  room  was  now  illuminated  only  by  the  light 
that  streamed  in  from  the  sitting-room. 

"  It  is  scarcely  necessary.  We  can  enjoy  the  music 
better  in  the  dim  light,"  and  she  opened  the  piano.  "  Of 
course  it  depends  somewhat  on  the  kind,  however  ; 
sometimes  it  does  seem  that  a  bright  light  is  at  vari 
ance  with  the  soul  of  the  music." 

He  sat  down  and  lightly  ran  his  hands  over  the  keys. 
She  stood  by  and  seemed  to  listen  as  he  played,  but 
the  notes  fell  like  a  jingle  on  her  ears.  The  piece  was 
a  new  one,  lately  published,  that  was  rapidly  becoming 
popular.  She  distinctly  heard  the  servant  go  into 
the  sitting-room  and  tell  her  father  that  the  carriage 
was  ready  ;  then,  a  minute  or  two  later,  she  answered, 
"All  right,  father,"  as  he  cried  out  to  her,  "  I'll  be  back 
in  half  an  hour,  Hortense." 

Maurice  finished  the  piece  ;  she  asked  him  to  play 
another,  adding,  "  Tnat  waltz  is  a  little  gem  ;  no  won 
der  people  like  it."  As  he  began  the  second  piece,  her 
father  went  out  of  the  front  door.  Hortense  had 
known  that  her  father  was  going  out  ;  she  had  heard 
him  give  the  order  for  the  carriage,  and  she  knew  that 
Maurice  and  she  would  be  left  alone  in  the  sitting- 
room.  But  with  a  rare  delicacy,  perhaps  as  much  for 
herself  as  for  him,  she  did  not  want  to  see  his  face 
when  she  spoke.  For  this  reason  she  had  led  him  into 
the  darkened  parlor,  and  now  that  her  father  was  gone 
she  felt  free  to  tell  her  secret. 

Again  Maurice  finished  his  piece.  "  Now,  Miss 
Hortense,"  he  said,  "  it  is  your  turn  to  play  ;  or  will 
you  sing  ?" 

She  was  leaning  against  the  side  of  the  piano,  and 
for  a  moment  did  not  answer  him.  Then  she  said: 
H 


112  THE   SHADOW  OF    THE   WAR. 

"  Oh,  no,  let's  stop  with  the  music  for  awhile.  I  want 
to  tell  you  something — something  that  will  surprise  you, 
I  dare  say." 

"  How  very  serious  you  have  become  !  What  can 
it  be  ? " 

"  It  is  simply  that  I  want  to  repose  a  great  confi 
dence  in  you.  I  do  so  because  I  regard  you  as  a  good 
friend,  and  I  believe  you  to  be  a  man  of  honor.  Can 
I?" 

For  an  instant,  Maurice  felt  a  thrill  of  joy  pass 
through  his  entire  frame,  tingling  each  fibre  with  strange 
and  pleasurable  sensations.  To  hear  this  woman, 
of  all  women  in  the  world,  say  that  she  believed 
him  a  man  of  honor — to  hear  her  say  anything  good 
of  him — gave  a  satisfaction  that  sent  the  blood  bound 
ing  along  in  his  veins  almost  like  intoxication.  But  he 
answered  : 

4<  Most  assuredly  you  can  ;  and  any  confidence  you 
may  place  in  me  will  be  jealously  guarded.  I  feel  that 
you  have  paid  me  a  high  compliment." 

"  No  more  than  you  deserve.  I  want  to  tell  you 
what  even  my  father  and  mother  do  not  know  :  I  am 
engaged  to  be  married." 

Maurice  was  astounded.  He  knew  that  she  was  a 
woman  who  wished  to  be  thought  quite  free  from  any 
touch  of  sentimentalism.  But  very  slight  observation  had 
shown  him  that  she  possessed  an  affectionate  heart 
under  her  air  of  somewhat  cold  reserve.  He  regarded  her 
rather  as  one  difficult  to  be  impressed  by  his  sex,  and 
who  had  not  as  yet  met  the  man  to  do  it.  She  might 
or  might  not  fall  in  love  easily  ;  but  if  she  did,  he 
thought  her  nature  such  that  the  wound  would  be  per 
manent.'  To  have  this  announcement,  unexpected  and 


MISS  GILDERSLEEVE  MAKES  A  CONFESSION.   H3 

terribly  unwelcome,  made  so  abruptly,  startled  him. 
He  half  rose  from  his  seat  on  the  piano-stool,  and 
then,  as  he  quickly  remembered  the  concern  she  had 
lately  exhibited  at  the  reading  of  her  father's  letter,  he 
slowly  sank  back  and  uttered  the  word  "  Ernest." 

How  glad  was  she  that  they  were  in  that  darkened 
parlor  !  How  glad  to  be  spared  seeing  his  face  at  that 
moment  !  It  had  been  told  now  ;  she  had  faced  the 
inevitable  unflinchingly,  and  she  felt  relieved  ;  but  she 
had  a  deep  pity  for  this  strong  man  beside  her,  as  he 
asked,  '  Is  it  Ernest  ?"  in  a  voice  that  was  only  a  trifle 
unsteady,  but  enough  for  her  quick  ear  to  detect  its  full 
meaning.  What  a  volume  that  little  unsteadiness  of 
tone  told  her,  and  how  joyfully  she  might  have  listened 
to  it  under  other  circumstances  !  But  forcing  back  the 
sigh  that  had  nearly  escaped  her,  she  answered  almost 
flippantly  : 

"  Did  you  hear  father  say  that  ?  How  terribly  sharp 
you  are,  Mr.  Lawyer  !  Well,  I  suppose  I  may  as  well 
tell  you  his  name  ;  it  is  Ernest  Trundon,  and  he  lives 
in  Bos-ton,"  giving  a  sing-song  intonation  to  her  last 
words. 

"  You  have  known  him  a  long  time  ?  "  inquired  Mau 
rice,  his  voice  firm  now. 

"  Yes,  ever  since  babyhood.  Do  you  think  it  strange 
that  I  keep  the  affair  a  secret  from  my  parents  ?  It  is 
only  because  of  a  foolish  desire  on  my  part  not  to  be 
looked  upon  as  a  love-sick  maiden.  My  father  is 
anxious  for  the  match.  He  has  the  greatest  con 
fidence  in  the  man  of  my  choice.  So  you  see, 
I  am  not  committing  any  unpardonable  sin  in  with 
holding  the  knowledge  from  him  for  a  little  while.  My 
father  has  always  said  that  he  would  never  induce  me 


114  THE    SHADOW  OF    THE   WAR, 

to  marry  a  man  whom  I  did  not  love,  and  in  return  I 
have  always  resolved  that  I  would  never  marry  one  of 
whom  he  disapproved." 

"  And  do  you  love  this  Ernest  ?  " 

"  Why  should  I  engage  myself  to  him  if  I  did  not  ? 
I  had  my  free  will  about  the  matter  ;  1  was  not  forced 
to  make  the  engagement.  You  may  know  I  would  not 
enter  rashly  into  such  a  contract,  when  I  tell  you  how 
sacred  I  hold  an  engagement.  I  believe  it  all  but  mar 
riage  ;  and  so  long  as  my  betrothed  observes  the  con 
dition  on  which  it  is  placed,  I  will  be  as  true  as  steel 
to  him." 

"  Then  you  have  hedged  him  round  with  condi 
tions?" 

"  Yes,  with  one  ;  but  I  am  not  exacting  ;  it  is  very 
easy  of  fulfillment.  I  have  told  you  this  secret  because 
father  teased  me  so  much  a  while  ago.  I  value  your 
friendship  very  much,  very  much  indeed,"  she  re 
peated  ;  "  and  I  was  afraid  that  you  might  think  me 
fickle,  after  what  father  said.  I  could  not  allow  you 
to  entertain  such  an  opinion  of  me  for  a  moment.  So 
you  see  how  it  is — that  on  the  spur  of  the  moment,  I 
have  reposed  this  confidence  in  you." 

"  You  can  rest  satisfied  that  it  will  never  be  be 
trayed.  I  feel  that  Mr.  Trundon  must  be  a  superior 
man  to  have  won  a  woman  like  you,  and  he  ought  to 
be  proud  of  his  good  fortune." 

"  Oh,  because  I  have,  as  you  think,  complimented 
you  by  this  confidence,  you  must  not  feel  yourself 
bound  to  make  a  return,"  and  she  laughed  lightly. 
He  was  too  much  absorbed  in  his  own  feelings  to  no 
tice  that  the  laugh  was  somewhat  forced.  Then  she 
took  her  seat  at  the  piano,  and  played  several  pieces 


MISS  GILDERSLEEVE  MAKES  A   CONFESSION.  115 

for  him,  until  she  heard  the  carriage  drive  up  to  the 
house.  Now  that  her  secret  had  been  told,  she  did  not 
want  to  prolong  this  interview  any  more  than  was 
necessary  ;  so,  with  a  sigh  of  relief,  she  hastily  invited 
him  to  go  out  with  her  and  meet  her  father. 

To  have  watched  Hortense  after  they  returned  to 
the  sitting-room,  no  one  would  have  dreamed  that  her 
heart  ached  with  a  poignant  sorrow,  as  she  almost 
saucily  flung  jest  and  repartee  at  her  father  and  his 
guest.  She  seldom  appeared  more  animated.  She 
accused  the  former  of  political  aspirations,  of  having 
come  South  to  be  sent  to  Congress  ;  she  chided  Mau 
rice  on  his  supposed  fear  of  the  ghost,  and  uncon 
sciously  fascinated  him  still  more  when  she  provoked 
him  into  laughter.  Maurice,  with  natural  pride,  felt 
the  necessity  of  appearing  unconcerned,  and  he  bent 
his  strong  will  to  enter  into  her  humor.  But  as  he 
listened  to  her  talk,  so  gay  and  sparkling,  he  thought 
how  happy  she  must  be  in  her  love ;  how  impossible, 
even  if  right,  it  would  be  to  supplant  her  chosen  one  ; 
and  a  feeling  of  real  loneliness  crept  over  him.  Al 
ready  he  had  begun  faintly  to  suspect  the  girl's  pur 
pose  in  confiding  her  secret  to  him,  and  his  whole 
soul  rebelled  against  baring  his  heart  any  more.  So  he 
nerved  himself  to  meet  the  necessity,  and  gave  mirth 
for  mirth,  jest  for  jest,  until  the  time  came  for  them  to 
retire  for  the  night. 

When  at  last  Hortense  was  in  her  room,  she  went 
to  a  table,  and  taking  from  her  desk  a  letter  written 
that  morning,  she  began  adding  a  postscript.  She 
wrote  steadily  for  about  a  quarter  of  an  hour,  and  then 
carefully  re-read  what  she  had  written.  She  seemed  to 


116  THE   SHADOW  OF   THE   WAR. 

lay  special  stress  on  one  portion,  for  she  re-read  it  sev 
eral  times.     At  last  she  seemed  satisfied  and  exclaimed: 

"  Now  I  think  that  will  do.  I  am  sure  I  have  done 
all  I  can  to  impress  upon  Ernest  my  fixed  determina 
tion,  and  if  trouble  ever  does  come,  he  can  not  con 
scientiously  blame  me.  Let  me  see  ;  I  will  run  over  it 
again  ;  "  and  she  read  : 

"  Remember,  Ernest  dear,  your  promise,  and  that 
our  engagement  holds  only  as  long  as  it  is  faithfully 
kept,  in  proof  of  which  1  rely  on  your  word  of  honor, 
a  sufficient  security  to  me  from  the  man  I  am  to  marry. 
Remember,  also,  how  frankly  I  have  always  spoken 
to  you  in  regard  to  my  feelings  for  you,  and  that 
I  have  always  said  that  if  you  were  to  break  your 
promise,  I  would  consider  our  engagement  ended. 
The  recollection  of  the  difficulties  you  were  involved  in 
last  year,  and  my  intimate  acquaintance  with  your  dis 
position  and  your  one  weakness,  make  me  sometimes 
apprehensive  ;  and  you  know  enough  of  my  character 
to  believe  me  when  I  say,  as  I  have  repeatedly  done, 
that  were  your  promises  broken,  I  would  consider  my 
self  released.  Now,  dear,  don't  think  me  harsh  again. 
I  have  promised  to  marry  you,  and  I  will  be  true  to 
you  as  long  as  you  are  true  to  me.  It  is  only  because 
of  my  earnest  desire  to  fulfill  that  promise  that  I  write 
you  thus ;  and  though  distance  separates  us,  you  know 
me  too  well  to  think  that  any  other  face,  any  other 
voice,  could  ever  tempt  me  from  the  fealty  I  owe  to ' 
you,  my  betrothed." 

Then  she  unrobed,  and  flinging  herself  upon  the 
bed,  the  long  pent-up  feelings  of  her  warm  nature  gave 
way.  The  girl  cried  herself  to  sleep  with  the  sim 
plicity  of  a  child.  She  had  made  one  fatal  mistake  in 


MISS  GILDERSLEEVE  MAKES  A  CONFESSION.  117 

life,  one  that  she  already  began  to  repent  bitterly,  and 
the  iron  sank  deep  in  her  heart.  But  the  world  would 
never  be  the  wiser,  and  he  least  of  all. 

On  reaching  his  room,  Maurice  divested  himself  of 
his  coat  and  shoes  ;  like  most  men,  he  first  sought  bod 
ily  comfort.  Then  lighting  a  cigar,  he  threw  himself 
into  an  easy  chair,  and  perched  his  feet  upon  another. 
He  tried  to  think  ;  but  the  ideas  flowed  almost  too  fast 
for  thought.  Now  he  confessed  that  he  loved  Hor- 
tense  Gildersleeve  with  all  the  power  of  his  nature  ; 
now  that  she  was  so  far  removed  from  him  that  he  had 
no  right  to  look  upon  her  save  as  the  affianced  of 
another,  he  bowed  his  head  and  admitted  himself  a 
fool  in  his  former  perversity.  But  had  he  realized  the 
truth  before  this  evening,  no  good  would  have  resulted. 
He  would  still  have  fluttered  around  the  candle,  auda 
ciously  dreaming  like  the  silly  moth  that  all  its  radiance 
might  be  for  him,  until  at  last  the  end  would  have  been 
the  same  as  now  ;  he  had  dropped  wingless,  and  his 
former  rambles  in  the  heaven  of  the  past  only  served 
to  blacken  his  present  and  the  far-off  future. 

His  thoughts  flew  back  to  the  time  when  they  had 
first  met  on  the  wrecked  steamship  "  Gate  City,"  out 
side  of  Carrollton  bar,  and  he  smiled  slightly  as  he 
remembered  the  estimate  he  had  hastily  formed  of  her 
that  morning.  He  recollected  how  her  beauty  had  been 
impressed  upon  him  as  they  were  sailing  up  the  harbor, 
and  then  as  he  had  grown  to  know  her  better,  how  deep 
in  his  heart  was  her  face  engraved.  It  was  too  bitter 
to  bear,  to  think  that  she  belonged  to  another  ;  and  as. 
his  thoughts  came  crowding  upon  him,  he  felt  borne 
down  by  the  great  agony.  Impatiently  throwing  away 
his  cigar,  he  almost  viciously  kicked  his  chair,  and 


118  THE  SHADOW  OF   THE   WAR. 

walked  to  a  window,  stirred  by  emotion  and  passionate 
regret  as  he  had  never  been  before.  He  looked  out, 
and  as  he  viewed  the  peaceful  and  beautiful  night,  a 
calm  gradually  came  over  his  troubled  spirit.  With 
one  of  those  changes  peculiar  to  the  versatile  Southern 
climate,  the  night  was  now  as  fair  as  any  maiden.  The 
rain  had  ceased  and  the  moon  was  shining  brightly  ; 
and  as  its  rays  came  here  and  there  through  the  trees, 
or  silvered  the  dense  foliage,  he  felt  that  he  had  never 
before  experienced  so  gratefully  the  restful  influence 
of  a  lovely  night.  He  was  a  true  child  of  nature, 
polished  and  educated  though  he  was,  with  all  the  pas 
sions,  all  the  hopes  and  fears,  with  all  the  capabilities 
for  joy  or  sorrow,  that  such  a  constitution  gives  ;  and 
as  he  looked  out  he  seemed  to  be  drawn  closer  to  the 
great  mother  of  all  things,  and  he  felt  chastened  and 
subdued. 

After  a  while,  having  lit  another  cigar,  he  began  to 
walk  his  room.  If  he  could  only  banish  her  from  his 
thoughts  !  'Twas  as  idle  to  attempt  it  as  to  turn  the 
flowing  tide  ;  and  he  resigned  himself  to  his  revery. 
He  recalled  how,  one  Sunday  afternoon,  he  had  gone 
with  Hortense  to  church,  and  after  the  service  they 
took  a  walk  through  the  town.  Passing  along  one  of 
the  side  streets,  they  came  upon  a  little  negro  baby 
scantily  clad,  which  lay  sprawling  helplessly  on  the 
grass  and  crying  as  if  its  heart  would  break.  Hortense 
was  instantly  beside  the  child,  repulsive  and  dirty  as  it 
was,  and  she  coaxed  it  into  a  wondering  quiet,  while 
Maurice  went  to  seek  its  mother.  After  the  baby  had 
been  safely  delivered  to  the  neglectful  parent,  who 
received  it  with  open-mouthed  astonishment  from  "  de 
Yankee  lady  wot  libs  in  de  hanted  house,"  Hortense 


MISS  GILDERSLEEVE  MAKES  A   CONFESSION.  119 

merely  threw  her  shawl  over  her  arm  with  a  slight  con 
temptuous  motion,  and  remarked  :  "  Poor  little  crea 
ture  !  I  do  not  suppose  its  mother  ever  washes  it. 
How  people  can  be  so  cruel,  passes  my  comprehen 
sion."  For  the  time,  all  the  cynicism  and  haughtiness 
of  the  young  heiress  were  gone,  and  only  the  kindli 
ness  of  the  tender-hearted  woman  shone  like  a  noble 
gem  in  a  rich  setting.  Maurice  said  nothing,  but  the 
incident  made  a  deep  impression  upon  him.  He  thought 
how  an  aristocratic  dame  of  the  old  Southern  regime 
would  view  such  an  act.  "  Turning  nurse  for  a  nigger 
baby  ! "  But  Maurice  was  of  the  New  South,  and  the 
suffering  of  a  human  being  was  all  the  same  to  him, 
whether  its  skin  was  white  or  black ;  and  he  honored 
Hortense  for  her  charity. 

How  vividly  every  incident  happening  during  their 
short  acquaintance  came  back  to  him  !  Then  he 
thought  of  the  affectionate  care  she  displayed  towards 
her  mother,  and  the  tenderness  with  which  she  treated 
her  father.  It  was  not  her  beauty  alone,  nor  her  vivac 
ity,  when  one  knew  her  well ;  nor  was  it  her  intelli 
gence  and  decision  of  character  ;  nor  the  honesty  and 
womanly  softness  of  her  nature,  mingled  with  a  rare 
simplicity  and  an  absolute  freedom  from  affectation ; 
it  was  not  any  one  of  these  that  fascinated  him.  He  had 
often  noted  some  one  or  more  of  these  qualities  in 
equally  high-bred  women  ;  but  it  was  the  combination 
of  them  all  which  made  her  appear  to  him  as  the  most 
perfect,  the  most  glorious  of  women. 


CHAPTER  XII. 

A   MIDNIGHT    ALARM. 

MAURICE  looked  at  his  watch  ;  it  was  nearly 
one  o'clock.  He  knew  that  he  could  not 
sleep,  and  he  had  no  desire  to  go  10  bed.  He  felt 
restless,  and  weary  of  his  own  thoughts.  He  wished 
that  morning  would  come,  and  that  he  was  back  in  his 
office  at  Carrollton.  He  went  to  the  window  again, 
and  raised  the  sash  ;  all  was  still  and  quiet  save  for  the 
noise  of  a  few  insects,  and  the  beauty  of  the  night  still 
overhung  the  scene.  He  was  about  to  turn  away,  when 
a  sudden  sound  broke  upon  his  ear.  Hark  !  what  was 
it?  The  town  bell  rang  violently.  It  was  only  used 
in  rare  cases  of  fire  ;  or,  as  once  or  twice  before,  near 
election  time,  when  the  bell  gave  to  the  small  popula 
tion  the  alarm  of  some  trouble  occurring  between  the 
whites  and  the  blacks.  Certainly,  something  must  have 
happened,  and  of  a  serious  nature  too,  or  its  tones 
would  never  startle  the  quiet  village  at  this  time  of 
night. 

Hastily  slipping  on  his  coat  and  shoes,  and  joyfully 
welcoming  any  excitement,  Maurice  went  out  on  the 
piazza  which  bordered  his  room  on  the  front,  and  thence 
down  the  staircase  which  communicated  with  the 
ground  floor.  He  then  made  his  way  to  the  street — 
or,  rather,  to  the  road,  for  there  were  properly  no 
streets  in  the  town, — and  walked  rapidly  towards  the 

(120) 


A   MIDNIGHT  ALARM.  121 

town  hall.  Presently  he  met  two  young  men,  also 
attracted  by  the  alarm  ;  but  they  could  give  him  no 
information  except  to  say  :  "  'Spose  some  niggers  are 
up  to  their  tricks."  They  continued  on  together,  and 
soon  reached  the  hall,  a  small  frame  building  slightly 
elevated  above  the  ground.  As  they  approached,  the 
bell  ceased  to  ring,  and  a  man  appeared  on  the  porch, 
whom  Maurice  recognized  as  Mike  Colton,  a  neighbor 
of  Mixon. 

"  Hallo,  Mike,  what's  the  matter  ?"  he  asked. 

"  The  very  devil  himself,"  returned  the  individual 
addressed.  "  Why  didn't  you  bring  your  horse  ?  " 

"  What  for  ?     Tell  me  what  is  the  matter  !  " 

"  Why,  those  niggers  down  at  Mixon's  place  have 
burnt  up  his  still  and  hundreds  of  barrels  of  rosin  and 
turpentine,  all  the  stock  he  had  on  hand.  That  is,  it 
was  all  burning  when  I  left.  Mixon  shot  one  nigger, 
and  knocked  another  down  ;  and  you  can  just  bet 
those  niggers  are  in  for  a  rampage.  If  they  want  it,  we 
can  oblige  'em  !  Mixon  sent  me  up  here  to  raise  the 
boys  in  case  the  niggers  got  worse.  If  the  boys  agree, 
we  want  to  catch  the  nigger  who  started  the  fire  and 
hang  him  to  the  first  tree." 

"  Do  you  know  who  did  it  ? " 

"  Oh,  yes  ;  both  the  Major  and  I  saw  him  ;  it  was 
that  nigger  Nebuchadnezzar ;  'Nezzar,  you  know,  we 
called  him  for  short.  A  d — »-d  sassy  coon,  even  in 
slavery  times  !  " 

"  Whom  has  Mixon  killed  ?  " 

"  He  hasn't  killed  anybody,  but  he  shot  'Nezzar ; 
and  the  rascal  got  away  after  all.  It  ain't  been  now 
more'n  a  month  since  my  bran-new  corn-crib  was 
burnt.  The  black  devils  !  They  first  stole  out  what 


122  THE   SHADOW  OF   THE   WAR. 

they  wanted,  and  then  they  set  fire  to  the  crib  ;  all  the 
corn  I  had — not  much,  but  a  heap  for  a  poor  man  in 
these  hard  times.  I  tracked  'em  to  the  swamp  where 
they  toted  the  corn,  and  nary  a  one  of  those  niggers 
has  ever  been  arrested.  A  white  man  ain't  got  no 
show  in  this  State  any  longer." 

"  Yes,  it  does  seem  that  there  is  no  redress,"  answered 
Maurice,  gloomily. 

"  And  here,  scarce  on  to  six  weeks  ago,  old  Jack  Bur- 
son  caught  two  niggers  rolling  off  a  bale  of  his  cotton 
to  the  woods  ;  and  last  week  those  niggers  were  dis 
charged  from  Carrollton  jail  to  come  back  here  and 
sass  Burson.  Every  time  they  see  the  old  man  they 

call  him  '  rebbil-debbil  !  '  By !  this  sort  of  thing 

has  just  got  to  stop  !  There  ain't  no  law  or  justice  in 
this  State,  'cept  we  make  it  for  ourselves.  It's  all  no 
use  to  run  down  the  Kuklux  ;  you  can  just  bet  your 
eyes  there  was  no  stealing,  no  setting  houses  afire,  in 
Kuklux  times,  and  a  little  taste  of  it  now  wouldn't 
do  us  no  harm." 

At  heart,  Maurice  was  inclined  to  agree  with  the 
speaker.  Naturally,  he  was  attached  to  his  State,  and 
all  her  necessities,  all  the  interests  of  her  people, 
appealed  loudly  to  the  strongest  instincts  of  his  nature. 
To  hear  of  these  repeated  outrages,  to  know  that  his 
friends  and  acquaintances  were  being  loaded  with 
insult  and  injury  wh'icji  could  not  be  punished,  sent 
the  hot  blood  tingling  to  his  face.  From  his  profes 
sional  outlook  he  knew  the  futility  of  seeking  to  punish 
a  negro  criminal  where  a  political  reason  existed  for 
his  escape  ;  even  should  a  conviction  happily  be  gained, 
the  pardoning  power  was  ready  to  nullify  its  decree. 


A   MIDNIGHT  ALARM.  123 

The  only  alternatives  seemed  to  be  either  to  submit 
and  endure  all,  or  else  resort  to  force. 

But  would  this  latter  course  be  just?  His  resent 
ment  was  not  so  much  against  the  negro — whom  he 
rather  pitied  as  a  poor  ignorant  creature,  mis-led  by 
the  advisers  that  circumstances  had  given  him,  and  only 
obeying  the  instincts  generated  by  a  past  bondage — as 
it  was  against  the  government  which  permitted  these 
things  to  be.  The  question  at  issue  was  one  that  he 
had  long  considered,  and  his  former  conclusion  was 
not  to  be  overturned  by  an  emergency.  He  knew  his 
people  well,  and  he  realized  the  situation  thoroughly  ; 
he  deplored  the  facts  and  sympathized  with  the  suffer 
ers  ;  but  his  strong  and  clear  judgment  condemned  as 
unjust,  as  injudicious,  the  stern  course  which  many 
would  unhesitatingly  have  pursued  to  the  bitter  end. 
He  saw  that  such  a  course  was  worse  than  useless  ; 
that  it  only  too  surely  reacted  upon  the  very  persons 
and  communities  for  whose  protection  it  might  be 
instituted.  Could  the  desperate  remedy  be  placed  in 
the  hands  of  a  few  dispassionate  men,  and  its  applica 
tion  be  controlled  absolutely  by  their  judgment,  Mau 
rice  Graham  was  still  young  enough  to  believe  that 
some  good  might  result,  and  a  salutary  warning  be 
given  those  heartless  villains  who  wielded  the  power  of 
the  State.  But  this  was  a  fixed  impossibility.  If  the 
experience  of  the  past  ten  years  had  taught  any  lesson, 
it  was  unmistakably  that  a  resort  to  force,  in  the  pres 
ent  complexion  of  Southern  society,  was  a  resource  too 
dangerous  for  good.  Once  begun,  no  one  could  tell 
where  its  action  would  stop.  The  war  had  long  been 
over ;  but  the  revolution  was  still  surely  in  progress, 
and  the  tortures  of  these  long  weary  years  had  ren- 


124  THE   SHADOW  OF    THE   WAR. 

dered  the  social  material  of  the  South  too  sensitive,  too 
inflammable,  to  be  handled  carelessly.  The  whites 
were  being  aroused  from  their  stupor,  and  they  _  felt 
keenly  the  mortification  and  injustice  of  their  position. 
Particularly  was  this  the  case  with  those  whose  educa 
tion  and  prejudices  were  of  the  old  slavery  days.  That 
his  people  were  the  natural  masters  of  Southland,  Mau 
rice  Graham  knew  well  ;  that  they  would  eventually 
regain  their  mastery,  he  also  firmly  believed,  and  he 
could  see  that  the  revolution  would  work  on  until  that 
end  had  been  reached.  The  war  had  settled  the  ques 
tion  of  the  amendments  to  the  Constitution  ;  they  were 
now  fixed  and  inviolable,  guarded  by  a  whole  nation. 
But  a  weighty  problem  still  remained  :  the  final  settle 
ment  of  Southern  politics  and  society. 

There  had  been  no  end  to  the  methods  by  which  the 
political  philosophers  of  the  country  sought  to  solve 
these  Southern  difficulties,  nor  were  many  wanting 
who  rose  up  in  the  distance  and  proclaimed  themselves, 
each  in  turn,  the  oracle  of  the  hour.  But  so  far,  all 
speculation  had  been  vain,  all  theories  false  ;  and  the 
situation  remained  unchanged.  The  answer  had  to 
come  from  the  Southern  people  themselves ;  they  had 
to  work  out  their  own  future  ;  and  however  attained, 
it  could  only  consist,  as  surely  as  water  runs  downward, 
in  the  possession  of  power  by  those  to  whom  it  natur 
ally  belonged.  The  struggle  was  coming,  and  coming 
quickly.  Maurice  Graham  was  a  close  observer,  and 
he  read  well  the  signs  of  the  times.  But  he  had  repeat 
edly  and  anxiously  asked  himself,  what  direction  would 
the  current  of  popular  action  take  ?  Would  it  be  a 
renewal  of  the  lawless  scenes  succeeding  the  war,  and 
of  the  Reconstruction  period  ?  If  so,  then  the  State 


A   MIDNIGHT  ALARM.  125 

would  be  remanded  to  a  worse  degradation  than  now 
existed.  He  saw  the  temptation,  and  he  feared  the 
result.  Reared  amidst  the  late  misfortunes  of  the 
people,  he  belonged  to  that  new  class  of  Southern  men 
then  just  beginning  to  form  and  to  exert  the  influence 
of  their  vigorous  ideas  ;  and  thus  Maurice  Graham 
believed,  in  the  light  of  past  years,  that  order  and  jus 
tice  could  never  be  accomplished  by  means  of  lawless 
ness. 

To-night  he  saw  the  temptation  presented  in  its 
most  fascinating  guise.  Here  were  men,  stimulated  by 
powerful  motives — those  of  injured  property- holders — 
to  obtain  the  redress  which  the  executives  of  the  State 
would  not  afford.  Should  these  men  resort  to  force, 
what  would  be  the  inevitable  result  ?  The  crime  might 
be  punished,  but  the  race  antagonism  would  be  all  the 
more  bitter.  The  negroes,  bound  together  by  their 
intensely  clannish  feelings,  would  scarcely  be  intimi 
dated,  where  their  majority  was  so  great,  by  what  must 
appear  to  them  as  half-hearted  measures.  No  illegal 
force  could  thoroughly  overawe  the  negro, unless  the  very 
cruelty  of  its  thoroughness  convinced  him  that  resist 
ance  was  useless.  Just  men  would  not  undertake 
such  a  course,  nor  would  it  be  permitted  by  the  national 
government.  Attempts  to  secure  justice  by  force,  as 
long  as  the  negro  was  under  his  present  political  guid 
ance,  would  necessarily  appear  to  him  as  reprisals,  and 
stimulate  him  to  continued  aggression.  The  only  ulti 
mate  result  would  be  failure  of  the  measures,  and  a  still 
more  ruinous  enkindling  of  the  passions  of  the  igno 
rant  and  impressionable  negro. 

In  an  appeal  to  Judge  Lynch,  the  reckless  and  un 
scrupulous  men  of  every  community  always  come  to  the 


126  THE   SHADOW  OF    THE   WAR. 

front.  There  is  an  unhallowed  atmosphere  around  such 
a  cause  which  seems  to  give  them  their  position  and  influ 
ence  ;  good  men  instinctively  shrink  from  the  respons 
ibility  of  extreme  measures.  Unfortunately,  there  are 
as  many  men  of  the  former  type  in  the  South  as  in  any 
other  section  ;  the  only  difference  being  that  in  the 
one  place,  they  generally  are  deeply  imbued  with  the 
worst  and  basest  of  race  prejudices.  Long  after  the 
essential  issue  could  be  gained  by  unlawful  force — if, 
indeed,  that  were  possible — a  just  punishment  meted 
out  for  some  terrible  crime,  or  a  torturing  grievance 
removed, — long  after  the  moderate  and  conservative 
men  had  retired,  satisfied  in  conscience  by  the  abso 
lute  necessity  for  action, — the  other  desperate  class, 
who  always  lead  at  such  a  time,  would  impose  upon 
the  credulous,  the  ignorant,  and  those  who  accept  the 
thoughts  of  others  as  their  own,  and  would  continue 
their  work  for  the  very  power  and  authority  it  con 
ferred. 

At  least,  such  had  been  the  invariable  history  of  all 
organizations  formed  in  the  South  for  such  purposes 
since  the  war  ;  and  Maurice  believed  that  the  same 
conditions  still  existed,  capable  of  being  easily  so  intensi 
fied  as  to  render  void  any  attempts  by  the  whites  to 
secure  power  or  justice  by  force.  In  far-off  western 
States,  where  the  scanty  population  was  composed  of 
desperadoes  and  honest  citizens,  Judge  Lynch  might 
be  powerful  for  good  ;  the  conflict  was  simply  and 
definitely  between  the  good  and  the  bad.  But  in  the 
South,  the  situation  was  very  different.  Here,  two 
races  were  arrayed  against  each  other  in  a  struggle  for 
mastery.  The  one  had  the  intelligence  and  the  prop 
erty  ;  the  other,  the  majority,  the  innings,  and  govern- 


A    MIDNIGHT  ALARM.  127 

mental  support.  The  lynching  of  a  negro  criminal 
under  these  circumstances  was  made  to  appear,  not  as 
an  issue  between  the  good  and  the  bad  elements  of 
society,  but  as  an  example  of  rebellious  insubordina 
tion  and  hatred  of  the  black  man.  The  manipulators 
of  the  negro  vote  seized  greedily  such  opportunities 
to  antagonize  the  two  races,  and  had  used  them  effect 
ively. 

J 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

MAJOR  MIXON  TELLS  HIS  STORY. 

MIKE  COLTON  had  told  Maurice  Graham  that 
he  was  ringing  the  bell  in  order  to  assemble  the 
Belleville  Rifle  Club,  or  at  least  those  of  the  members 
who  lived  in  town  ;  and  that  as  soon  as  the  men  had 
collected,  they  would  proceed  to  Major  Mixon's  plan 
tation,  to  afford  him  and  his  property  protection,  should 
it  be  needed,  and  if  possible  to  catch  and  punish  the 
criminal.  Major  Mixon,  as  the  recognized  military 
leader  of  the  neighborhood,  was  the  Captain  of  this 
company.  So  Maurice  hastily  retraced  his  steps  to 
the  Gildersleeve  residence,  determined  to  reach  Mixon 
and  talk  with  him  before  the  club  arrived  ;  and,  besides, 
it  gave  him  a  relief,  which  was  almost  a  pleasure,  to 
have  a  new  subject  to  occupy  his  mind.  Walking 
briskly,  he  soon  came  to  the  house,  and  going  directly 
to  the  stable  he  with  some  difficulty  aroused  the  coach 
man,  who  slept  in  an  upper  room.  Mixon's  horse, 
which  Maurice  had  ridden  up  from  the  plantation  that 
afternoon,  was  brought  out  and  saddled  by  the  sleepy 
Pompey,  who  wondered  much  at  this  unusual  disturb 
ance.  After  throwing  the  man  a  piece  of  money,  and 
leaving  with  him  a  message  to  explain  his  absence  to 
the  family  in  case  he  did  not  return,  Maurice  leaped 
into  the  saddle  and  cantered  off  at  full  speed  down 
the  road  leading  to  Mixon's  plantation. 

(128) 


MAJOR  MIXON    TELLS  HIS  STORY.         129 

Three-quarters  of  an  hour  or  less  would  bring  him 
to  the  plantation  at  the  pace  he  was  traveling  ;  but 
long  before  he  arrived  he  could  see  the  illumination  of 
the  sky  when  occasionally  the  growth  of  trees  around 
him  was  not  too  dense.  He  knew  then  that  his 
informant  had  not  exaggerated  the  extent  of  the 
calamity,  and  that  probably  Mixon's  whole  establish 
ment  would  be  destroyed.  As  a  member  of  the  legal 
firm  which  transacted  his  business,  Maurice  was 
acquainted  with  Mixon's  affairs,  and  he  feared  that  the 
loss  would  be  one  of  great  severity  ;  perhaps  it  would 
completely  prostrate  the  man  ;  and  a  great  bitterness 
rose  up  in  his  heart  that  such  things  should  be. 

Still  urging  his  horse  on,  he  entered  the  avenue  at 
the  same  rapid  pace,  and  as  he  drew  nearer  the  foliage 
gradually  became  brightened  by  the  flames.  He  did 
not  g9  to  the  house,  but  turned  off  from  the  avenue  on 
a  road  leading  to  the  turpentine  works,  which  were 
about  a  quarter  of  a  mile  from  Mixon's  dwelling,  and 
near  the  river.  He  could  now  see  the  tongues  of  fire 
as  they  shot  through  the  trees,  producing  a  horribly 
grotesque  imagery  on  the  surrounding  gloom,  and  the 
hissing  and  crackling  of  the  inflammable  material  grew 
noisier  with  every  step  of  his  horse. 

When  he  suddenly  emerged  from  the  trees,  the  blaz 
ing  pile  stood  full  before  him  ;  and  a  little  to  one  side 
was  a  group,  composed  of  Mixon,  his  wife,  and  their 
three  small  children,  who  were  watching  the  work  of 
destruction.  Along  the  edge  of  the  timber  were  also 
a  number  of  negroes,  idly  looking  on.  Quickly  dis 
mounting,  Maurice  tied  his  horse  to  a  sapling  and 
approached  Mixon. 

"  Major,  I  am  sorry  to  see  this." 


130  THE   SHADOW  OF   THE   WAR. 

"  Is  that  you  ?  My  God,  Maurice,  I'm  a  ruined 
man  !  It  wouldn't  be  so  bad  but  for  those  children." 
He  pointed  to  two  little  boys  who  were  watching  the 
dancing  flames  with  childish  glee,  entirely  ignorant  of 
the  fact  that  it  was  their  patrimony,  the  remains  of  a 
once  grand  estate,  that  was  being  swept  away.  The 
eldest  child,  a  girl  of  thirteen,  stood  near  her  father. 

While  Major  Mixon  was  speaking,  his  wife  had  come 
close  to  him  and  laid  her  hand  on  his  shoulder.  "  Don't 
feel  so  badly  about  it,  Louis,"  she  said.  "  It's  hard  to 
bear,  of  course  ;  but  you  are  not  ruined.  There's  my 
house  in  Carrollton  ;  you  can  raise  money  on  that,  and 
start  the  business  again.  And,  oh,  Louis,  I  beg  you, 
for  the  sake  of  your  children,  not  to  do  any  thing 
rash,"  she  entreated,  turning  her  anxious  face  up  to  his 
gloomy  countenance. 

Mixon  leaned  down  and  kissed  his  wife,  who  barely 
reached  his  beard,  saying  : 

"  You  are  just  the  best  little  woman,  Carrie,  to  com 
fort  a  man  !  But  don't  worry  ;  I'm  not  going  to  kill 
anybody  to-night." 

Maurice  knew  that  Mixon  was  devotedly  fond  of 
his  wife,  and  he  was  glad  that  her  influence  was  near 
the  impetuous  man  at  this  time.  He  had  known  Mrs. 
Mixon  ever  since  he  was  a  boy,  and  he  regarded  her  as 
a  charming  lady,  who  was  far  too  good  for  her  bear  of 
a  husband.  She  was  a  distant  relative  of  the  Gravoir 
family,  and  had  always  lived  in  Carrollton  until  she 
married  Mixon.  Her  face,  which,  as  he  could  see  by 
the  bright  light  playing  upon  it,  was  tear-stained,  had 
been  very  pretty,  and  would  still  have  been  so  but  for 
the  cares  that  had  left  their  impress  there. 


MAJOR   MIXON    TELLS  HIS  STORY.         131 

"  How  did  this  trouble  begin,  Major  ? "  asked 
Maurice. 

"  Why,  you  remember,  when  we  went  out  and  read 
that  contract  to  the  niggers,  how  sassy  that  fellow 
'Nezzar  was,  and  how  I  picked  up  a  barrel  stave  and 
threatened  to  knock  him  down  unless  he  could  be  more 
polite  ?  I  suppose  that  was  the  beginning  of  the  whole 
trouble.  You  saw  that  the  hands  did  not  take  to  the 
terms  I  offered,  and  they  said  they  wanted  to  talk  it 
over.  I  suppose  they  wanted  to  hear  what  that  rascal 
Tomkins  had  to  say.  After  that,  you  left ; — of  course 
you'd  rather  go  up  to  town  and  talk  to  that  Yankee  gal 
and  her  pa  than  stay  down  here  at  my  beastly  old 
place." 

"  Major,  you  are  unjust  in  what  you  say  !  Mr.  Gil- 
dersleeve  is  an  excellent  gentleman,  and  I  have  as  high 
a  regard  for  his  daughter  as  for  my  own  sister." 

"  Oh,  certainly  ;  I  didn't  mean  any  offense,  Maur 
ice  ;  but  I  can't  help  the  old  feeling  at  a  time  like  this. 
Whenever  I  think  of  all  I've  lost,  and  know  that  the 
Yankees  have  caused  it,  I  hate  the  whole  tribe  !  By  the 
eternal,  I  do  !  But  I  meant*  no  disrespect  for  your 
friends." 

"  I  never  supposed  you  did.  But  go  on  and  tell  me 
how  this  affair  happened." 

"After  you  left,  all  the  boys  went  home,  except  Col- 
ton,  who  was  to  stay  over  night  with  me.  Those  fel 
lows  had  been  on  hand  since  early  in  the  morning, 
when  they  first  heard  of  the  strike  and  the  ugly  look 
of  the  niggers.  My  wife  went  up  to  bed  about  nine 
o'clock,  and  Colton  and  I  took  a  hand  at  poker.  We 
played  along  until  nigh  eleven,  and  then  we  concluded 
to  go  down  to  the  still  and  see  if  things  were  all  right 


132  THE   SHADOW  OF    THE   WAR. 

for  the  night.  We  walked  along,  talking  about  the 
strike,  until  we  got  within  fifty  yards  of  the  still,  when 
Colton  caught  me  by  the  arm  and  said  :  '  Hist,  Major  ! 
there's  somebody  yonder ; '  and  sure  enough,  I  could 
see  a  light  as  it  flickered  out  from  one  side  of  the  still, 
right  among  the  rosin  barrels.  We  pulled  out  our 
revolvers  and  walked  on,  each  second  the  light  growing 
bigger,  until  I  couldn't  stand  it  any  longer.  I  ran 
quickly  up,  and  as  I  turned  round  the  corner  of  the 
still,  who  should  I  see  but  that  infernal  nigger,  'Nezzar, 
standing  right  before  me  !  Caught  him  in  the  very 
act,  by !  I  could  see  him  as  plain  as  daylight ! " 

"  Yes,  but  what  was  he  doing  ? "  Maurice  asked 
quickly. 

"What  was  he  doing?  Why,  standing  there  and 
looking  at  his  damnable  work  !  He  had  started  two 
barrels  of  rosin  burning,  and  he  was  tickled  to  death, 
the  scoundrel !  Yes,  sir,  I  actually  heard  him  laugh 
ing  !  I  stopped  and  watched  him,  I  reckon,  for  five 
seconds.  You  might  have  knocked  me  down,  I  was  so 
taken  aback.  Just  then  he  saw  me,  and,  good  Lord  ! 
how  that  nigger  jumped  for  the  woods  !  He  hadn't 
gone  more  than  ten  paces,  when  crack!  went  my  revol 
ver,  and  down  he  tumbled,  yelling  like  a  mad  bull.  I 
thought  the  fellow  safe,  but  as  I  threw  away  the  pistol 
and  turned  in  to  pull  out  the  blazing  barrels,  up  he 
jumped,  and,  shot  as  he  was,  that  nigger  scooted. 
Mike  fired,  but  did  not  touch  him.  It  was  either 
nigger  or  still,  and  I  chose  the  still ;  but  all  we  did 
could  not  stop  the  blaze.  Some  turpentine  got  caught, 
and  then  we  had  to  stop.  There  was  nothing  more  to 
do  but  to  roll  off  as  many  barrels  as  we  could,  and  it 
was  while  we  were  dragging  them  out  that  a  lot  of 


MAJOR   MIXON   TELLS  HIS  STORY.         133 

niggers  came  up.  I  told  them  to  turn  in  and  help, 
and,  would  you  believe  it,  they  refused  !  Yes,  sir  !  and 
I  heard  one  of  them  say,  'Sarve  him  right'  ;  so  I  just 
turned  round  and  knocked  him  down.  Another  coon 
stepped  up  and  wanted  to  lay  me  out,  but  Mike  cov 
ered  him  with  his  revolver  and  ordered  the  whole 
crowd  back.  Afterwards,  when  we  had  saved  all  we 
could,  I  sent  him  to  town  for  the  boys  ;  but  I  made 
him  get  this  for  me  from  the  house  before  he  went," 
and  Mixon  glanced  significantly  at  the  gleaming  Win 
chester  that  lay  on  his  left  arm. 

"  And  how  much  have  you  saved  ?  " 

"  There's  a  lot  of  barrels  yonder,  but  it's  mighty 
little  out  of  all  of  the  stock  I  had  on  hand.  If  it 
hadn't  been  for  this  strike,  I  would  have  been  loading 
the  flat-boats  for  shipment  to  Carrollton  this  week. 
Stock  is  generally  low  at  this  season,  but  mine  had  ac 
cumulated  more  than  usual,  owing  to  the  dull  market. 
I  did  hope  to  get  most  of  the  stuff  off  in  a  few  days, 
but  now  I  have  lost  a  big  amount  of  cash  and  the  busi 
ness  is  all  gone  to  the  devil  !  " 

"  Your  loss  is  mostly  in  stock,  Major.  It  will  not 
take  a  great  deal  of  money  to  start  you  again,  and 
Mrs.  Mixon  has  suggested  a  plan.  You  can  retrieve 
this  bad  luck." 

"  Only  to  have  it  happen  again  !  What  security 
has  a  man  for  life  or  property  in  this  State  except  his 
own  arm  ?  It  is  all  good  enough  for  you  city  people, 
who  are  comparatively  safe,  but  we  out  here  in  the 

country  are  differently  situated,  and,  by !  if  we 

don't  protect  ourselves  nobody  else  will  !  " 

"  Well,  what  do  you  propose  to  do  ? " 

"  See  here."     Mixon  drew  Maurice  to  one  side  and 


134  THE   SHADOW  OF    THE    IV A R. 

lowered  his  voice  to  a  whisper.  "  Don't  let  on  to 
Carrie  ;  she  is  so  anxious  for  fear  of  my  getting  into 
more  trouble,  she'd  only  cry  her  eyes  out.  I  intend 
to  catch  that  nigger  'Nezzar  if  it  takes  me  ten  years  , 
and  when  I  do,  I'll  pile  some  rosin  barrels  around  him 
and  set  them  afire.  That's  what  I'll  do,  so  sure  as  my 
name  is  Mixon." 

Maurice  knew  differently,  so  he  said  nothing.  He 
did  not  doubt  that  the  negro  would  pay  heavily  for  his 
crime,  if  caught ;  for  Mixon  could  be  most  unrelenting 
in  what  he  believed  the  necessary  punishment  of  a 
negro  criminal.  Nor,  in  fact,  did  Maurice  think  'Nez- 
zar's  life  worth  a  penny,  if  he  remained  in  that  county, 
with  such  a  resolute  nemesis  on  his  trail.  Mixon 
was  passionate  and  revengeful,  but  at  heart  he  was  not 
a  bad  man,  nor  a  cruel  one  ;  and  though  he  might 
have  been  sincere  in  his  threat,  yet  when  he  cooled  off 
its  barbarity  would  probably  shock  him  as  much  as 
anybody. 

At  that  moment  they  heard  the  sound  of  horses' 
hoofs,  moving  rapidly.  The  Major  turned  to  his  wife 
and  told  her  that  she  had  better  take  the  children  up 
to  the  house.  Mrs.  Mixon  gathered  her  little  ones 
around  her,  and  was  about  to  comply.  Then  she  hesi 
tated,  and  going  close  to  her  husband,  she  looked  up 
again  into  his  face  and  said,  half-crying  as  she 
spoke  : 

"  Oh,  Louis,  promise  me,  please,  that  you  won't  let 
those  men  do  any  violence  to-night.  I  know  what 
they  are  !  They'll  do  anything  you  ask  them  to.  It 
nearly  breaks  my  heart  to  think  you  might  get  yourself 
into  more  trouble.  Surely  we  have  enough  now." 

"  My  dear  little  wife,  don't  be  afraid.     I  am  only 


MAJOR  MIXON   TELLS  HIS  STORY.         135 

going  to  arrest  the  nigger,  and  take  him  to  jail. 
Haven't  I  a  right  to  do  that  ? " 

"  And  is  that  all  you  will  do  ? " 

"Yes,  that's  all,  dear.  Now  kiss  me  and  run  on." 
He  soothed  her  in  his  rough  way,  but  only  as  a 
loving  man  would  ;  and  after  some  coaxing  and  reas 
surances,  she  departed  satisfied.  In  truth,  however, 
Mixon  had  deceived  her  regarding  his  purposes, — 
believing,  like  many  other  men,  that  such  things  are 
sometimes  necessary  for  the  sake  of  domestic  peace. 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

A  CONFERENCE  AND  A  SEARCH. 

MRS.  MIXON  and  the  children  had  scarcely  gone, 
when  a  troop  of  some  twenty  mounted  men, 
two  abrdast,  came  dashing  down  the  road.  As  they 
passed  out  from  the  trees  into  the  open  space,  the  com 
mand  "  Halt !  "  rang  clear  upon  the  night  air  The 
horses  were  immediately  checked,  another  order  was 
given,  and  there  was  a  little  commotion  as  the  men 
arranged  themselves  in  position.  Then  the  officer  in 
charge  rode  down  the  line,  and  after  looking  sharply 
to  see  that  all  was  right,  he  turned  and  saluted  Mixon. 
The  latter  approached,  acknowledged  the  courtesy,  and 
said  a  few  words  to  his  subordinate,  who  wheeled  and 
gave  the  order  to  dismount.  The  men  were  quickly 
afoot,  and  busied  themselves  in  securing  their  animals. 
Mixon  called  Colton,  and  told  him  in  a  low  tone  to  go 
to  the  stable  and  bring  him  his  saddle-horse. 

There  were  present  in  the  troop  men  of  nearly  every 
age  and  condition  of  life,  from  the  mere  stripling,  de 
lighting  in  the  excitement  of  this  midnight  ride,  to  the 
gray-haired  veteran  of  the  Mexican  war,  who  could  ill 
afford  to  leave  his  comfortable  bed  at  such  a  time. 
But  they  were  bound  together  by  the  law  of  mutual 
protection,  and  each  man  knew  that  if  he  rendered  any 
assistance  to  Mixon  in  time  of  danger,  or  when  his 
property  was  threatened,  the  same  would  be  cheerfully 

(136) 


A    CONFERENCE  AND  A   SEARCH.  137 

returned  should  it  be  needed.  The  organization,  of 
which  only  about  one-half  was  on  duty,  was  a  curious 
mixture  of  the  military  and  the  social,  of  the  unques 
tioning  obedience  of  the  soldier  and  the  freedom  of  the 
deliberative  assembly.  As  long  as  the  men  were  under 
command,  not  one  of  them  would  have  broken  the  si 
lence  or  manifested  the  least  impatience  at  the  rigid 
discipline  which  held  him  ;  for  Mixon  prided  himself 
on  being  a  perfect  martinet.  Except  for  the  absence 
of  uniforms,  a  stranger  could  easily  have  imagined 
that  a  company  of  regulars  was  present ;  and  it  is  in 
the  willing  observance  of  these  formalities,  as  well  as 
upon  the  trials  of  the  battle-field,  that  the  intensely 
military  spirit  of  the  Southerner  shows  itself.  But  so 
soon  as  the  ranks  were  broken,  and  the  men  had  dis 
mounted,  the  assemblage  became  one  of  equals,  who 
pressed  around  Mixon,  anxious  to  hear  particulars,  and 
each  volunteering  his  own  ideas  and  opinions. 

Mixon,  however,  quickly  put  another  phase  on  the 
situation.  He  had  no  desire  to  see  valuable  time  lost 
in  this  informal  talking. 

"  Gentlemen,"  he  cried,  raising  his  voice,  "  the 
meeting  is  called  to  order." 

Instantly  every  tongue  was  hushed,  and  the  men 
arranged  themselves  in  a  more  orderly  group.  A 
young  man  with  a  pencil  and  note-book  took  up  his 
position  at  Mixon's  side.  This  personage  had  two 
titles  ;  he  was  orderly  sergeant  of  the  military  organi 
zation,  and  secretary  of  the  club. 

"  Gentlemen,"  continued  Mixon,  "  you  know  what 
has  happened  here  to-night.  You  can  see  for  your 
selves  the  outrage.  Yonder  is  my  property,  that  is 
being  burnt  up — almost  all  I  have  in  the  world.  The 


138  THE   SHADOW  OF   THE   WAR. 

scoundrel  has  beggared  me  !  How  many  of  us  have 
not  lost  heavily  in  this  way  during  the  last  few  years  ! 
Is  the  thing  to  go  on  until  we  are  bankrupt  ?  What 
are  we  going  to  do  about  it  ?  Stand  still  and  submit  ? 
By  heaven  !  we  are  not  men  if  we  do  !  I  tell  you, 
something  must  be  done,  and  done  quickly  !  A  crime 
like  this,  that  takes  the  bread  from  your  mouth,  calls 
for  blood  !  None  of  you  need  do  anything  that  you 
are  opposed  to  ;  each  man  has  a  chance  to  speak  for 
himself  ;  but  remember,  every  one  of  you,  that  no 
man  can  tell  how  soon  his  own  roof  may  be  burnt  over 
his  head." 

When  the  Major  stopped  speaking,  one  of  the  men 
asked  him  to  tell  them  how  the  thing  happened,  and 
he  began  relating  the  story  he  had  told  Maurice  Graham. 
The  men  gave  him  eager  attention,  as  with  hot  words 
he  poured  out  the  details  of  the  crime.  Maurice 
stood  near  and  closely  watched  the  proceedings.  He 
was  very  anxious  to  know  what  course  their  action 
would  take. 

A  deep  silence  ensued,  when  the  Major  again  stop 
ped  speaking.  The  men  realized  that  they  had  to 
grapple  with  a  desperate  question,  and  they  hesitated. 
Maurice  noted  this  hesitation,  and  he  deemed  it  one  of 
the  signs  of  the  times.  Ten  years  back,  probably  no 
man  in  that  assembly  would  have  had  the  least  doubt 
as  to  the  best  course  to  pursue  ;  "shoot  the  nigger  on 
sight,"  they  would  have  cried  But  these  years  of 
trial  and  defeat  had  begun  to  undermine  the  self-con 
fidence  of  the  Southerner  ;  and  now,  after  repeated 
failures  of  the  old  methods  of  dealing  with  the  race 
questions,  a  slight  hesitation,  perhaps  a  dread  of  con 
sequences,  had  entered  the  minds  of  some  of  the  peo- 


A    CONFERENCE  AND  A    SEARCH.  139 

pie.  But  the  old  feelings  were  still  present  ;  their 
growth  had  been  too  vigorous  to  be  dead  already,  and 
the  new  were  yet  scarcely  germinating. 

The  burning  still  was  flaring  up  furiously,  and  the 
flames  cast  a  lurid  brightness  over  the  little  knots  of 
men  gathered  here  and  there.  The  surroundings,  the 
dark  heavy  outlines  of  the  forests  around,  the  group 
ing  of  the  men  and  horses,  the  crackling  of  timbers 
and  the  flight  of  sparks,  the  time  of  night,  and  the 
ghostly  light  of  the  moon  mingled  with  the  glare  of 
the  flames,  all  combined  to  make  the  scene  one  of 
strange  and  unusual  interest. 

Suddenly  a  short  thick-set  man  leaped  to  the  front, 
bearing  a  double-barrelled  gun.  "  Gentlemen,"  cried 
he,  excitedly,  "  why  are  you  all  silent  ?  In  God's  name, 
are  we  to  stand  still  when  all  we've  got  is  taken  away 
from  us  ?  I,  for  one,  am  with  Major  Mixon  ;  the  nig 
ger  who  did  this  work  must  be  put  out  of  the  way, 
and  there's  enough  men  around  here  to  do  it !  Some 
body  is  constantly  losing  his  property,  and  the  sooner 
we  teach  the  niggers  a  lesson  the  better.  Can  you 
expect  any  protection  from  the  imbecile  State  govern 
ment  ?  Haven't  we  waited  and  prayed  for  years  ?  and 
while  we're  waiting,  we  are  becoming  paupers  !  Some 
will  preach  prudence,  and  tell  us  that  if  we  want  the 
negro  vote  we  must  treat  them  kindly.  But  is  this  the 
time  to  talk  of  prudence,  when  you  see  those  flames  ? 
/  don't  want  the  vote  of  a  nigger  thief  or  house-burn 
er  !  I  say,  shoot  him  or  hang  him  !  They  think  us  a 
set  of  poor  devils,  who  can't  protect  ourselves,  and 
they'll  vote  our  ticket  all  the  quicker  when  they  find 
out  we  can.  Yes,  gentlemen,  I  mean  lynching — the 
shot-gun  policy  ;  here's  the  remedy  for  our  troubles," 


140  THE    SHADOW  OF    THE   WAR. 

and  the  speaker  held  high  his  weapon.  "  The  first 
thing  is  to  catch  the  nigger,  and  then  a  load  of  buck 
shot  settles  the  whole  matter.  There's  no  use  dilly 
dallying  any  longer.  I  say,  shoot  every  mother's  son 
of  them  that  can't  behave  himself !  Who's  willing  ? 
Step  up,  boys,  and  show  that  you're  men!  " 

"  I'm  with  you,  Major  !  "  cried  a  tall,  lank  individu 
al,  when  the  speaker  had  finished. 

"  And  I,  too,"  cried  another,  and  another,  until 
Mixon  was  no  longer  able  to  contain  himself.  He 
became  actually  boyish  in  his  elation  over  the  prospect 
of  speedy  vengeance,  and  he  forgot  all  about  his  prom 
ise  to  his  wife.  Throwing  his  hat  into  the  air,  he 
caught  it  as  it  fell,  and  exclaimed  : 

"  Hurrah  for  you,  boys !  I  did  think  if  I  had  my 
old  cavalry  company,  I  could  clean  out  this  county  of 
niggers  in  ten  days.  But  you've  got  the  spirit  of 
sixty-one  in  you  still !  Shall  we  hang  the  nigger  ?  " 

A  volley  of  affirmatives  came  back,  and  Mixon  yelled 
in  reply,  "  All  right,  boys  !  The  sooner  the  better! 
To  horse  !  To  horse  !  " 

Just  here,  a  sturdy  farmer,  one  of  the  most  prosper 
ous  in  the  neighborhood,  and  a  man  who  had  come  to 
own  land  since  the  war,  interrupted  the  bustle  of 
departure  by  saying : 

"  P'r'aps,  Major,  Mr.  Graham  can  give  us  the  law 
on  the  matter." 

Maurice,  who  had  been  throughout  a  silent  specta 
tor,  answered  simply  :  "  I  can  give  you  no  legal  advice 
that  will  help  you.  You  know  the  law  bearing  upon 
such  actions  as  are  proposed,  and  you  can  judge  for 
yourselves  what  had  best  be  done." 

"  Hang  the   law  !  "  exclaimed  Mixon,  fiercely,  and 


A    CONFERENCE  AND  A    SEARCH.  141 

scowling  upon  the  questioner.  "  We  have  no  law  in 
this  State  ;  but  we'll  make  some,  this  very  night ! 
Mount,  boys,  quick  !  We've  no  time  to  lose  !  " 

Why  was  it  that  Maurice  Graham,  an  influential 
young  man,  who  held  views  so  different  from  those  of 
the  speakers  at  this  midnight  meeting,  did  not  throw 
his  voice  on  the  side  of  law  and  order  ?  Because  he 
knew  that  the  effort  would  be  useless,  and  that  it  was 
natural  for  these  men  to  feel  as  they  did.  He  could 
not  approve  the  lynching,  yet  he  hardly  knew  what 
else  to  suggest.  He  did  think,  however,  that  a  better 
plan  would  be  to  assemble  the  negroes  and  endeavor 
to  make  them  understand  that  what  was  Mixon's  loss 
was  equally  their  own.  If  the  negroes  could  become 
a  party  to  the  capture  of  the  criminal,  if  in  this  way 
the  race  antagonism  could  be  removed,  then  the  pun 
ishment  of  the  man  would  be  salutary.  He  had  no 
scruples  about  hanging  'Nezzar,  but  he  knew  that  such 
an  act  under  existing  circumstances  would  only  embit 
ter  the  already  intense  feelings  on  both  sides.  For  a 
few  minutes  he  did  really  consider  the  expediency  of 
urging  upon  Mixon  the  propriety  of  interesting  the 
negroes  in  the  capture.  Had  he  been  a  less  clear 
headed  man,  he  would  perhaps  have  boldly  pursued 
this  idea,  and  thus  have  lost  what  influence  he  did  pos 
sess.  He  knew  that  such  a  moderate  course  was 
impracticable  here.  The  existence  of  a  feeling  of 
injury  and  mortification  on  the  one  hand,  the  clannish- 
ness  and  exaggerated  notions  held  by  the  others  of 
their  rights,  together  with  passion  and  ignorance, 
formed  a  current  too  powerful  to  be  turned  by  his  sin 
gle  arm.  So  he  wisely  determined  to  remain  quiet  and 
watch  events.  But  he  noticed  that  although  no  voice 


142  THE   SHADOW  OF   THE   WAR. 

had  been  raised  in  opposition  to  the  proposed  lynch 
ing,  the  feeling  among  the  men  was  not  altogether 
unanimous.  There  were  some  present  who  had  not 
joined  very  loudly  in  the  acclamation  when  Mixon 
called  for  approval  of  his  views  ;  some  who  had  been 
taught  by  the  past  that  they  might  yet  raise  a  storm 
that  would  not  be  quelled  until  they  had  suffered 
heavily.  But  they  were  too  few  to  oppose  the  impet 
uous  Mixon  and  his  followers  when  reason  and  justice 
seemed  to  side  with  the  latter,  and  popular  feeling  was 
not  yet  strong  enough  to  give  this  new  class  of  men 
the  necessary  courage  to  face  the  imputation  that 
would  be  cast  upon  their  motives  for  prudence. 

The  troop  rode  rapidly  to  the  negro  quarters,  a 
short  distance  off.  These  consisted  of  about  thirty  odd 
huts  and  log  cabins  arranged  in  two  parallel  rows  with 
a  broad  street  down  the  middle.  In  the  rear  of  each 
hut  was  a  small  piece  of  land  allotted  to  the  resident. 
As  he  approached  the  quarters,  Mixon  detailed  some 
six  or  eight  men,  who  took  up  positions  around  the 
premises  as  a  sort  of  picket  -  guard  ;  and  Maurice 
Graham  could  not  refrain  from  asking  himself,  as  he 
saw  all  this  done,  what  good  would  result  ?  To  almost 
a  certainty,  'Nezzar  would  not  be  found  in  the  quar 
ters,  unless  he  was  too  badly  wounded  for  further 
flight.  If  he  was  caught  at  all,  it  would  most  proba 
bly  be  in  the  heart  of  a  swamp.  Why,  then,  the  need  of 
all  this  military  show  and  parade  ?  Simply  because  it 
gave  Mixon  and  a  few  others  the  semblance  of  what 
they  most  desired  :  an  opportunity  to  impress  upon  the 
negroes  the  belief  that  they  still  held  authority. 

Lights  were  flaring  from  the  cabins  as  the  whites 
rode  up.  The  negroes  were  gathered  in  groups  in  the 


A    CONFERENCE  AND  A    SEARCH.  143 

street,  and  an  ominous  silence  prevailed.  The  men 
dismounted,  and  a  few  took  charge  of  the  horses. 
Then  Mixon  divided  the  rest  into  four  squads,  and 
ordered  them  to  begin  at  the  different  corners  of  the 
quarter  and  search  every  house  until  they  were  satis 
fied  that  'Nezzar  was  not  hidden  away.  The  negro 
men  stood  by,  scowling,  with  sullen  faces.  Had  they 
dared  oppose  them,  these  white  men  would  never  have 
been  permitted  to  enter  their  dwellings.  But  they 
were  partially  taken  by  surprise,  and  the  presence  of 
so  many  mounted  and  well  armed  men  was  enough  to 
intimidate  them  for  the  time.  The  whites  speedily  set 
about  their  work,  and  met  with  no  opposition  ;  but 
Maurice  knew  that  an  accidental  pistol-shot,  a  blow 
given  by  some  hot-headed  man,  might  precipitate  a 
bloody  race  fight  at  any  moment.  The  negro,  proba 
bly  because  of  his  former  slavery,  is  easily  intimidated 
by  what  appears  to  him  as  a  superior  force  ;  so  also,  if 
he  thinks  he  possesses  an  advantage,  he  is  as  bold  as  a 
lion.  But  if  driven  by  sheer  necessity,  he  will  fight 
against  odds,  and  then  his  physical  strength  and  pas 
sions  render  him  a  formidable  antagonist. 

But  if  the  negro  men  remained  quiet  and  showed 
their  feelings  only  in  their  faces  and  by  their  demeanor, 
the  women  acted  very  differently.  They  danced 
around  like  furies,  half  dressed,  cursing  the  white  men 
both  loud  and  deep,  and  calling  upon  their  lords  to 
"  shoot  de  white  dogs  !  "  They  twirled  their  petticoats 
— those  who  had  them  on, — ran  in  and  out  of  the  huts, 
screaming  and  reviling,  shook  their  fists  in  the  faces  of 
their  enemies,  and  in  their  impotent  rage  did  every 
thing  but  come  to  actual  blows.  In  some  of  the  cabins, 
as  Maurice  listened,  he  could  almost  imagine  pande- 
K 


144  THE   SHADOW  OF   THE   WAR. 

monium  let  loose  ;  and  he  thought  that  for  profanity 
these  women  could  challenge  the  frequenters  of  Billings 
gate.  The  troopers  took  no  notice  of  them  ;  they  had 
been  too  long  accustomed  to  such  displays  of  temper 
by  the  women,  and  their  fury  scarcely  caused  a  smile 
ot  amusement.  With  the  addition  of  the  squalling  of 
numerous  babies,  which  was  soon  added  to  the  horri 
ble  din,  the  scene  was  not  one  to  be  willingly  witnessed 
a  second  time,  and  Maurice  was  tempted  to  leave  in 
disgust.  But  as  he  momentarily  expected  a  fight  to 
begin,  he  resolved  to  stay  and  see  the  affair  out.  Had 
only  a  half-dozen  whites  been  present,  bloodshed  would 
have  been  inevitable  ;  but  the  negroes  knew  what 
manner  of  man  Mixon  was,  and  with  his  present  force 
around  him  they  dared  not  provoke  a  resort  to  the 
shot-gun. 

One  by  one,  the  different  squads  returned  and 
reported  failure  in  the  search.  As  the  last  report  was 
made,  day  was  breaking. 

"Fall  in!"  cried  Mixon,  and  the  men  assumed 
their  positions.  "  We  have  failed  here,  boys  ;  of  coarse 
'Nezzar  is  in  a  swamp,  but  we'll  find  him  if  he  is  alive, 
and  our  work  here  has  not  been  for  nothing.  We've 
taught  those  niggers  a  useful  lesson,  one  they  needed 
badly.  Forward — trot !  "  and  the  troop  sped  away  to 
Mixon's  house,  where  his  bewildered  little  wife  had  to 
find  something  for  these  hungry  men  to  eat.  But  she 
felt  rewarded  when  he  said  : 

"  Don't  you  see,  Carrie,  I've  kept  my  promise  ?  No 
one  has  been  hurt,  so  don't  cry  any  more." 

Maurice  returned  his  horse  to  Mixon's  stable,  and 
despite  the  latter's  solicitation  for  him  to  remain, 
pleading  business  as  an  excuse  he  bade  the  Major 


A    CONFERENCE  AND  A    SEARCH.  145 

good-bye  and  set  off  for  the  cross-roads  station  to  meet 
the  early  morning  train.  He  had  been  through  so 
many  strange  and  unexpected  scenes  in  the  last  twelve 
hours,  that  he  felt  somewhat  dazed.  But  the  walk,  and 
the  sharp  morning  air,  laden  with  the  resinous  odor  of 
the  pine,  soon  refreshed  him,  and  he  thought  anxiously 
of  what  fruit  the  night's  work  would  bear  in  the  future. 
True,  the  negroes  had  made  no  resistance  to  Mixon's 
search  ;  but  now  the  grudge  was  deeper  than  ever. 
Opportunity  alone  was  needed  to  bring  into  action  the 
worst  passions  of  human  nature  ;  and  Maurice  knew 
well  enough  that  if  Mixon  ever  caught  the  negro 
'Nezzar,  a  terrible  tragedy  would  be  enacted  in  that 
county.  Then  his  own  affairs  passed  in  review  before 
him,  and  as  he  remembered  the  conversation  he  had 
had  with  Hortense  Gildersleeve,  the  future  seemed  very 
drear  and  gloomy. 

After  a  short  walk,  he  arrived  at  the  railroad  track, 
where  he  had  not  long  to  wait.  He  was  obliged  to 
flag  the  train  as  it  came  up,  the  place  not  being  a  regu 
lar  station.  Soon  after,  he  was  in  Carrollton.  He  went 
directly  home  and  got  his  breakfast.  Then  he  sought 
his  office,  where  his  first  duty  was  to  write  and  mail  a 
letter  to  Mr.  Gildersleeve,  explaining  his  unceremon 
ious  departure,  and  relating  enough  of  the  circum 
stances  of  the  night  to  excuse  his  absence  in  the  morn 
ing  at  the  house  of  his  host.  That  done,  he  turned  to 
his  other  duties  of  the  day. 


CHAPTER  XV. 

"  A  POLITICAL  BOSS." 

ALL  the  inmates  of  the  Gildersleeve  household, 
as  well  as  Maurice  Graham,  had  been  aroused  by 
the  ringing  of  the  town  bell.  Mr.  Gildersleeve,  having 
heard  his  guest  leave  the  house,  remained  awake  some 
time,  to  inquire  the  cause  of  the  disturbance  when 
Maurice  came  back.  But  after  awhile  the  bell  ceased 
to  ring,  and  Maurice  not  returning,  he  fell  asleep 
again. 

Next  morning,  soon  after  the  family  had  appeared 
in  the  sitting-room,  the  coachman  entered  and  deliv 
ered  Maurice's  message,  much  to  their  surprise. 

"  What  was  the  matter  last  night  ? "  inquired  Gilder 
sleeve. 

"  I  dun  no,  sah,  fur  sartin,  but  I  heerd  airly  dis 
mornin'  dat  dere  was  a  big  fire  down  on  Major  Mix- 
on's  plantation,  an'  dat  de  Major  was  killin'  all  de  nig 
gers  on  de  place  fur  de  pure  lub  ob  spitin'  a  nigger. 
Yer  ain't  hear  tell,  boss,  how  Mass  Mixon  treats  his 
niggers,  is  yer  ?  He's  de  wickedest  man  in  dis  yar 
State  !  Brudder  Tomkins  say  de  debbil  will  tek'  um 
some  day,  sure's  a  fac'!" 

Mr.  Gildersleeve  could  gain  no  further  information 
from  the  man,  and  he  was  naturally  anxious  to  know 
more  about  the  night's  disturbance.  After  breakfast, 
the  usual  morning  paper  came  from  Carrollton,  and  it 

(146) 


"A   POLITICAL  BOSS."  147 

contained  a  short  statement  to  the  effect  that  the 
negroes  on  Major  Mixon's  plantation  had  inaugurated 
a  strike,  and  that  the  feeling  among  them  towards  their 
employer  was  not  the  most  cordial.  During  the  day 
he  made  some  inquiries,  but  such  different  versions  of 
the  affair  were  given  him  that  he  was  considerably  per 
plexed.  He  knew  that  serious  trouble — a  big  fire  and 
some  shooting — had  occurred,  but  he  could  get 
very  few  details  which  were  not  contradicted  by  the 
next  that  he  heard.  He  spoke  to  several  black  men 
who  were  evidently  excited  over  the  matter,  and  their 
account  differed  considerably  from  that  given  by  the 
one  or  two  white  men  of  whom  he  inquired. 

In  the  evening,  Mr.  Gildersleeve  received  Maurice 
Graham's  note  of  explanation  and  excuses,  which  he 
read  with  much  interest.  There  came  also  by  the  same 
mail  a  letter  from  Francis  Gravoir,  stating  that  he  had 
prepared  all  the  papers  pertaining  to  an  application  for 
their  charter  ;  and  as  the  legislature  was  to  meet  in  a 
few  days,  it  was  advisable  that  Mr.  Gildersleeve  should 
have  an  early  conference  with  his  attorney,  so  that  the 
matter  might  be  entrusted  to  a  representative  without 
loss  of  time. 

Next  morning  Mr.  Gildersleeve  took  the  train  for 
Carrollton,  and  arriving  there  went  at  once  to  the  office 
of  Gravoir  and  Graham.  The  senior  member  of  the 
firm  was  occupied  when  he  entered,  but  Maurice 
received  him,  and  in  response  to  Mr.  Gildersleeve's 
inquiries,  proceeded  to  give  an  account  of  what  had 
happened  on  Mixon's  plantation.  When  he  had  fin 
ished  his  narration  the  Northerner  looked  grave. 

"  These  difficulties,"  said  he,  in  his  slow,  business 
like  way,  "  suggest  serious  doubt  as  to  the  advisability 


148  THE   SHADOW  OF    THE   WAR. 

of  my  enterprise.  There  seems  to  be  a  very  deep  feel 
ing  of  antagonism  between  the  white  and  black  por 
tions  of  the  population.  No  capitalist  cares  to  invest 
in  a  community  where  the  unsettled  condition  of  labor 
is  a  constant  menace  to  his  investment.  Major  Mix- 
on's  calamity  may  be  partly  due  to  his  own  fault,  as 
you  say  ;  but  the  very  fact  that  such  troubles  can  occur, 
together  with  the  difficulty  of  punishing  a  negro  crim 
inal,  makes  me  hesitate  about  pushing  things." 

"  But  it  would  be  easy  to  manage  better  than  Mixon 
does,"  answered  Maurice ;  adding,  with  a  laugh, 
"  should  not  the  fact  that  you  are  a  Northern  man — a 
Yankee,  according  to  the  commonly  accepted  opinion 
of  local  politics — protect  your  interest  completely  ?  " 

"  Only  until  some  difference  occurred  between  the 
capitalist  and  the  laborer,"  returned  Gildersleeve,  pur 
posely  ignoring  the  young  man's  real  meaning.  "  I 
prefer  strong  law." 

"  Certainly  that  is  the  best  protection,  and — well,  if 
you  side  with  the  Democrats  in  politics,  the  negroes 
will  consider  you  as  one  of  us.  So  perhaps  it  won't  do 
to  rely  too  much  on  your  nativity." 

"  What  about  insurance  rates  on  a  factory  located 
on  Mixon's  land  ?  Could  they  be  obtained  ?  " 

"  Yes,  but  doubtless  you  will  regard  them  as  very 
exorbitant." 

"  The  fact  that  a  charter  has  been  obtained  does  not 
prevent  the  abandonment  of  the  scheme  afterwards. 
We  will  procure  this  charter,  but  I  must  think  over  the 
whole  matter  more  thoroughly." 

Mr.  Gravoir  here  entered  the  room,  and  the  discus 
sion  was  continued.  Mr.  Gildersleeve's  doubts  were 
frankly  admitted,  but  both  the  Southerners  seemed  to 


"A   POLITICAL  BOSS."  149 

think  that  some  great  change  would  take  place  in  poli 
tics  at  no  distant  day,  which  would  render  investment 
safer.  Gildersleeve,  however,  adhered  to  his  first  res 
olution,  to  procure  the  charter  of  the  Pioneer  Milling 
Company,  since,  should  he  desire  to  carry  out  his  pro 
ject,  the  delay  would  be  irremediable  for  another  year. 
Afterwards,  he  could  study  events  and  decide  at  his 
leisure. 

"  Here  are  the  papers,"  said  Mr.  Gravoir,  produc 
ing  a  bulky  envelope.  "  We  will  now  call  on  Mr.  Mike 
Sharpe,  the  most  influential  legislative  representative 
from  this  county.  I  don't  know  how  you  manage  such 
business  up  North,  but  I  would  not  be  surprised  if  our 
methods  should  prove  a  novelty  to  you.  Of  course 
you  know  that  the  passage  of  this  bill  will  cost  some 
thing." 

"Yes,  an  inconsiderable  sum  for  expenses." 

"  No,  I  mean  a  good  round  sum — say  five  hundred 
dollars  to  the  representative  who  manages  the  busi 
ness.  They  always  expect  it,  and  it  is  wise  to  pay  a 
moderate  sum  if  your  interests  require  attention." 

"  You  don't  mean  that  a  representative  will  demand 
a  bribe  for  introducing  a  bill  ? " 

"  I  see  you  are  surprised.  You  are  a  Northerner, 
prejudiced  in  favor  of  our  government.  I  will  let  you 
interview  this  politician,  and  then  you  can  judge  for 
yourself.  Come  on." 

The  two  gentlemen  proceeded  to  pay 'their  visit  to 
Sharpe,  whose  office  was  in  one  of  the  public  buildings 
not  far  off.  The  Hon.  Michael  Sharpe  was,  in  a  cer 
tain  sense,  quite  a  remarkable  man  ;  at  least  the  career 
through  which  he  had  reached  his  present  position  in 
life  was  interesting.  With  nothing  but  his  own  natural 


150  THE  SHADOW  OF   THE   WAR. 

talents  to  depend  on,  he  had  in  the  course  of  ten  years 
or  less  become  a  prominent  personage  in  the  politics 
of  the  once  exclusive  Carrollton  County,  and  his  influ 
ence  as  a  leader  was  also  powerful  throughout  the 
State.  This  eminence  had  not  been  gained  without 
much  effort  and  intrigue  ;  for  even  in  his  own  party, 
occasionally  assisted  by  a  fusion  element  among  the 
whites,  strong  combinations  had  been  made  to  break 
his  grasp  on  office.  But  so  extensive  was  his  influence 
over  the  black  vote  in  the  county,  and  so  energetic 
and  shrewd  was  he  as  a  political  organizer,  that  he 
easily  defeated  his  enemies  and  compelled  them  to  sue 
humbly  for  his  favor.  He  was  now  the  prominent 
figure  of  a  clique  of  Radical  officials  in  the  county,  and 
in  reality  the  master  of  its  present  politics.  No  one 
ever  knew  where  the  man  had  come  from,  or  anything 
about  'his  antecedents,  until,  during  one  of  the  local 
rebellions  against  his  rule,  a  diligent  search  was  insti 
tuted  concerning  his  past  history  ;  and  while  most  of 
the  details  of  his  life  were  obscure,  enough  informa 
tion  had  been  obtained  to  damn  the  man  in  the  eyes 
of  everybody  except  the  ignorant  negroes.  The  crimi 
nal  records  of  one  of  our  largest  cities  showed  him  to 
have  been  convicted  of  swindling  while  quite  a  youth, 
and  at  the  beginning  of  the  war  he  had  just  served  out 
a  short  term  in  an  eastern  penitentiary.  He  enlisted 
in  an  infantry  regiment,  but  a  few  months  of  active 
service  seemed  to  have  gratified  his  military  ardor. 
He  deserted,  to  appear  next  as  a  sutler  in  the  train  of 
Sherman's  army ;  and  the  close  of  the  war  found  him 
in  Carrollton  County,  with  some  funds  and  booty  in 
his  possession.  He  opened  a  small  country  store  in 
one  of  the  villages  on  the  coast,  where  he  dealt  princi- 


"A    POLITICAL   BOSS."  151 

pally  with  negroes,  but  was  soon  making  a  fair  living. 
Very  few  persons  had  the  means  to  enter  upon  such 
trade  at  the  time,  and  Sharpe  had  in  his  locality  almost 
a  monopoly  in  the  exchange  of  cheap  merchandise  and 
vile  whisky  for  country  produce  and  game. 

When  the  negro  vote  began  to  be  organized,  Sharpe 
took  an  active  interest  in  the  work,  and  his  influence 
might  have  been  efficient  for  much  good  had  he  so 
chosen.  He  had  already  acquired  great  power  over 
the  negroes  in  his  neighborhood,  and  his  keen  eye 
saw  dazzling  possibilities  in  the  future.  He  lived, 
dined,  and  caroused  with  negroes, — for  all  of  which  he 
incurred  the  supreme  contempt  of  the  whites.  He 
formed  societies  among  the  blacks,  he  advised  and 
directed  them,  he  delivered  inflammatory  speeches 
against  their  former  masters,  and  very  soon  his  efforts 
were  rewafded  by  his  election  to  a  minor  office.  His 
influence  steadily  extended,  until  it  had  encompassed 
the  whole  of  Carrollton  County.  At  the  present  time 
he  was  apparently  only  a  representative,  but  in  fact 
the  incumbents  of  all  the  offices  in  the  county  were  his 
creatures,  and  Sharpe  had  his  own  reasons  for  desiring 
a  seat  in  the  General  Assembly.  Perhaps  the  judiciary 
was  the  only  power  in  the  county  which  he  did  not 
control.  The  man  had  certainly  developed  wonderful 
political  ability,  and  he  seemed  to  appreciate  thoroughly 
the  negro  character  under  the  changed  order  of  things. 
He  was  keen-witted,  had  a  vulgar  humor  that  tickled 
the  blacks  amazingly,  and  had  managed  to  acquire 
enough  education  to  entitle  him  to  the  respect  of  his 
compeers  throughout  the  state.  The  whites  hated 
him  cordially,  and  the  blacks  reverenced  him  as  their 
faithful  friend.  This  year  he  was  suggested  as  the 


152  THE   SHADOW  OF   THE   WAR. 

next  Congressman  from  his  district  on  the  Republican 
ticket. 

After  a  short  walk,  Mr.  Gravoir  and  Mr.  Gilder- 
sleeve  reached  Sharpe's  office,  and  found  him  com 
plaisant  and  ready  to  talk  of  business.  He  was  a 
rather  small  man,  very  neat  and  fashionable  in  his 
dress,  and  without  anything  striking  in  his  appearance 
except  the  wide-awake  expression  which  his  features 
constantly  wore.  Mr.  Gildersleeve  was  introduced  to 
him  as  a  Northern  man,  lately  come  South,  and  de 
sirous  of  establishing  a  cotton  factory.  Sharpe 
expressed  great  gratification  at  hearing  the  news,  and 
at  once  offered  his  services.  Mr.  Gildersleeve's  plans, 
and  the  scope  and  powers  of  the  projected  corpora 
tion,  were  clearly  set  forth,  and  the  necessity  for  a 
charter  explained. 

"  Now,  Mr.  Gildersleeve,"  asked  Sharpe,  "  with 
whom  shall  I  deal  in  this  matter,  you  or  your  at 
torney  ? " 

"  Why,  with  us,  of  course.  We  came  together  for 
that  purpose." 

"  Suppose  you  leave  Mr.  Gravoir  to  settle  with  me 
about  this  charter." 

"  Why  can  not  the  matter  be  attended  to  now  ?  We 
will  leave  you  these  papers ;  that  is  all,  I  believe." 

Sharpe  made  no  reply  for  a  few  moments,  but 
tugged  at  his  small  sandy  moustache  as  if  in  reflection. 
Then  he  rose,  and  leading  the  way  to  a  small  private 
room,  said: 

"  Let  me  see  you  in  here  for  a  minute,  Mr.  Gilder 
sleeve.  Mr.. Gravoir  will  excuse  us." 

The  latter  nodded  assent,  and  seemed  somewhat 
amused.  Gildersleeve  followed  Sharpe,  and  as  soon 


"A   POLITICAL   BOSS."  153 

as  he  entered  the  room  the  door  was  closed  behind 
him.  Sharpe  drew  up  chairs  and  began  the  conversa 
tion. 

"As  I  told  you  already,  Mr.  Gildersleeve,  I  am 
heartily  glad  to  hear  of  your  intention  to  manufacture 
in  the  South,  and  I  shall  be  proud  to  be  the  agent  who 
procures  your  charter.  I  shall  give  the  matter  my  per 
sonal  attention,  and  there  will  be  no  difficulty.  I  sup 
pose  you  know,  however,  that  there  is  some  expense 
attending  the  passage  of  such  a  bill." 

"  Yes,  a  dollar  or  so  for  a  certified  and  engrossed 
copy  of  the  charter." 

When  Sharpe  showed  a  desire  to  deal  with  only  one 
person,  and  asked  for  this  private  interview,  Gilder- 
sleeve  remembered  what  the  lawyer  had  said  about  the 
necessity  of  feeing  a  representative.  So  when  the  pol 
itician  spoke  of  expense,  he  was  all  attention.  They 
were  two  shrewd  heads  well  matched. 

"  There  is  no  law  imposing  a  fee  for  the  benefit  of 
the  State  treasury,"  continued  the  capitalist,  "  nor  has 
Mr.  Gravoir  informed  me  of  any  expense  worth  con 
sideration." 

"  That  is  true,"  replied  Sharpe,  "  but  when  bills  of 
this  character  are  introduced,  the  boys  expect  to  be 
paid  for  the  trouble  of  voting  for  them.  If  I  was  not 
prepared  to  hand  them  their  little  pocket-money,  as 
they  term  it,  I  might  fail  to  pass  the  bill,  you  know. 
You  see,  Mr.  Gildersleeve,  the  State  is  so  poor  it  can 
not  reward  us  properly  for  our  trouble  in  coming  down 
here  to  keep  the  '  Southern  Rebs '  in  order.  It  will 
cost  you  three  thousand  dollars  to  get  this  bill  through, 
one-half  down  and  the  balance  when  the  bill  is  passed. 
Each  of  our  county  members  in  the  House  must  be 


154  THE   SHADOW  OF    THE   WAR. 

paid  something.  Then  I  will  have  to  remunerate  my 
colleague  in  the  Senate,  and  of  course  my  own  time  is 
valuable." 

Mr.  Gildersleeve  had  already  risen  from  his  seat. 
He  looked  Sharpe  full  in  the  eyes,  and  his  lips  worked 
curiously  as  he  listened. 

"  I  will  not  pay  it  ! "  he  answered,  curtly.  Then, 
his  indignation  having  overcome  him,  he  continued, 
with  a  warmth  he  seldom  exhibited  :  "  This  is  an  out 
rageous  swindle  !  I  wonder  you  have  the  effrontery 
to  speak  to  me  thus  !  " 

"You  may  call  my  terms  by  whatever  name  you 
please,"  returned  Sharpe,  not  in  the  least  ruffled. 
"  One  thing  is  certain  :  you  will  never  get  your  char 
ter  unless  the  money  is  paid." 

"  I  will  not  become  a  partner  to  such  an  iniquitous 
transaction  !  "  answered  Gildersleeve,  with  increasing 
heat,  "  not  even  if  I  have  to  abandon  the  whole  thing. 
But  I  will  see  if  we  can't  find  a  representative  who 
doesn't  expect  to  be  paid  twice  for  performing  his 
duty." 

"You  may  find  one,"  retorted  Sharpe,  "  but  the  bill 
will  never  become  a  law  unless  you  plank  down  the 
money.  You  will  see  I  have  the  power  to  prevent  the 
passage  of  any  bill  I  choose." 

"  I  decline  your  terms,  and  I  give  you  fair  warning 
that  this  whole  transaction  will  be  laid  before  the 
public.  I  am  a  Republican,  and  have  always  been  one, 
but  I  recognize  no  affiliation,  political  or  otherwise, 
with  men  like  yourself.  I  shall  expose  this  swindle  in 
the  leading  Republican  papers.  If  the  rest  of  your 
party  is  no  better  than  yourself,  you  have  worn  your 
cloak  of  martyrdom  long  enough." 


POLITICAL   BOSS."  155 


Sharpe  smiled  complacently  at  this  outburst.  "  You 
can  write  what  you  please,"  said  he  ;  adding  imperti 
nently,  "  my  word  is  as  good  as  yours." 

Mr.  Gildersleeve  turned  to  leave,  and  meeting  Mr. 
Gravoir  in  the  next  room,  signaled  to  him  to  follow. 
The  two  were  soon  on  the  street,  and  the  lawyer 
was  immediately  made  acquainted  with  Sharpe's 
demand. 

"  I  had  expected  something  of  the  kind,  as  I  told 
you,"  said  Gravoir  ;  "  but  I  did  not  think  the  sum 
would  be  so  great.  Sharpe  evidently  regards  you  as 
a  rich  Yankee  who  can  afford  to  be  fleeced." 

"  But  don't  you  take  the  thing  rather  coolly  ?  I 
can't  find  words  strong  enough  to  express  my  indigna 
tion  !  We  are  not  accustomed  to  such  brazen  extor 
tion  in  Massachusetts." 

"  If  you  had  lived  under  this  diabolical  government 
as  long  as  we  have,  you  would  not  become  outraged 
over  so  trivial  a  matter  ;  trivial,  I  mean,  in  comparison 
with  what  we  have  endured.  At  first  I  was  deeply 
shocked,  but  so  many  stupendous  frauds  have  come  to 
light  in  quick  succession,  that  I  have,  doubtless,  lost 
the  keenness  of  my  sensibilities.  A  small  matter  like 
this  ceases  to  surprise  me." 

"  God  help  the  country  that  is  cursed  by  such  a 
government,  if  that  man  is  a  fair  sample  of  your 
rulers  !  " 

"  He  is  no  worse  than  the  majority,  and  a  grade 
better  than  some." 

"  Your  partner,  Graham,  lately  gave  me  a  history 
of  the  Radical  government  in  this  State,  and  the  tale 
was  so  replete  with  fraud  and  crime  that  I  could  scarcely 


156  THE   SHADOW  OF    THE   WAR. 

believe  it  to  be  free  from  prejudice.  But  my  experience 
to-day  has  been  startling  !  Well,  the  Northern  public 
shall  hear  of  this  outrage." 

"  What  do  you  intend  to  do  ?  "     . 

"  I  shall  write  out  a  detailed  account  of  this  ras 
cality  and  send  it  to  '  The  Stalwart  Republican.'" 

"  They  will  never  publish  it  ;  or  if  they  do,  it  will 
be  accompanied  by  statements  utterly  discrediting  its 
truth." 

"  They  would  not  treat  me  so.  Ah  !  there's  Colonel 
Graham,"  and  he  beckoned  to  that  gentleman,  who, 
perceiving  the  two,  crossed  the  street  and  joined  them. 
Mr.  Gildersleeve  again  related  the  substance  of  his  in 
terview  with  Sharpe  ;  but  Colonel  Graham  seemed  no 
more  surprised  than  Gravoir  had  been,  except  at  the 
amount  demanded. 

"  Are  there  no  other  members  whom  we  can  ap 
proach  ? "  asked  Gildersleeve. 

"Plenty  of  members,"  answered  Colonel  Graham, 
"  but  they  would  be  powerless  if  Sharpe  opposed 
the  bill ;  and  besides,  they  all  have  their  market 
price." 

"  There's  a  man  in  the  next  county,  a  negro,  of 
almost  equal  influence  with  Sharpe,"  said  Gravoir. 
"  We  may  try  him,  but  I  am  nearly  certain  he  will 
require  payment  also.  His  name  is  Phelps — the  Hon 
orable  George  Washington  Phelps ;  and  if  you  ever 
have  occasion  to  write  to  him,  don't  abridge  his  name 
or  omit  the  title  ;  he  is  very  proud  of  both." 

"  But  why  not  give  the  bill  to  a  Democrat  at  once  ?  " 
asked  Mr.  Gildersleeve. 

"  For  this  reason,"  replied  Colonel  Graham;  "  our 


"A   POLITICAL  BOSS:'  157 

corporation  is  to  have  a  large  capital — large  at  least  for 
this  section.  In  these  latter  days  our  rulers  have  suc 
ceeded  so  well  in  squandering  all  that  the  State  pos 
sessed,  that  there  is  nothing  more  to  steal.  Our  credit 
is  gone,  and  they  can't  issue  new  bonds,  for  there's  no 
market.  The  taxes,  though  burdensome,  fail  to  satisfy 
their  demands.  Hence,  when  a  bill  representing  so 
much  money  is  brought  forward,  they  swoop  down  and 
make  the  incorporators  pay  heavily.  Our  object 
in  obtaining  the  services  of  an  influential  Republican 
is  to  avoid  inquiry.  Every  bill  introduced  by  a  Dem 
ocrat  is  closely  scrutinized,  and  then  it  is  a  question 
between  lobbying  or  paying  heavily,  and  endless  delay; 
whereas  an  influential  Radical  makes  your  interest  his 
own,  if  he  is  paid  well." 

"  I  will  write  to  Phelps,"  said  Mr.  Gravoir  ;  "  if  he 
refuses  us,  we  can  discuss  some  new  measure." 

The  gentlemen  then  separated,  Mr.  Gildersleeve 
pondering  much  over  this  unexpected  obstacle.  He 
began  to  see  Southern  politics  in  a  new  light,  and  his 
old  ideas  had  been  rudely  shocked.  That  evening  he 
wrote  a  letter,  couched  in  respectful  terms,  detailing 
the  day's  transaction.  This  letter  he  mailed  to  the 
editor  of  "The  Stalwart  Republican,"  giving  his  name 
and  address,  and  facts  sufficient  to  establish  the  author's 
respectability.  Day  after  day  he  closely  watched  the 
columns  of  the  paper  ;  but  the  letter  never  appeared. 
Instead,  horrible  stories  of  crime  and  race  collisions, 
in  which  the  white  man  was  always  the  evil-doer,  rilled 
its  pages.  He  saw  numerous  letters  denunciatory  of 
the  South's  unrelenting  hatred  for  the  North,  and  tell 
ing  of  the  rough  treatment  both  blacks  and  Northern 


158  THE    SHADOW  OF    THE   WAR, 

men  received  at  the  hands  of  Southerners.  He  had 
once  believed  this  trash  to  be  the  truth  ;  but  as  he 
read  it  now  in  his  new  experience,  he  felt,  not  without 
some  soul-sickness,  that  he  had  learned  another  useful 
lesson  in  worldly  wisdom. 


CHAPTER   XVI. 

MR.  GILDERSLEEVE  BECOMES  MORE  DISGUSTED. 

IT  was  with  considerable  surprise  that  Mr.  Gilder- 
sleeve  read  in  the  principal  Carrollton  newspapers 
an  account  of  the  disturbance  on  Major  Mixon's  plan 
tation.  It  was  not  that  the  facts  were  perverted,  for 
they  were  identical  with  those  reported  to  him  by  Mau 
rice  Graham  ;  but  how  different  their  coloring  !  Ac 
cording  to  the  paper's  description,  Mixon  was  a  mild- 
mannered  citizen,  who  had  suffered  grievous  wrong, 
and  who  was  bent  only  upon  justice  in  endeavoring  to 
capture  the  criminal  ;  not  a  man  full  of  passion  and 
rage,  seeking  desperate  revenge,  and  utterly  regardless 
of  his  methods  and  of  the  rights  of  others  in  its  pur 
suit.  Nor  did  the  negro  get  any  credit  for  his  igno 
rance  and  credulity  ;  he  appeared,  rather,  as  an  incor 
rigible  savage  whose  presence  was  a  curse  to  the  land. 
But  the  occasion  gave  ample  opportunity  for  an  out 
burst  of  righteous  indignation  against  the  imbecile 
State  government,  and  on  that  head  the  editor  fairly 
luxuriated  in  the  abundance  of  material  at  his  com 
mand. 

To  read  these  Carrollton  papers  with  no  other 
source  of  information  at  hand,  one  would  conclude 
that  the  negro  was  the  sole  cause  of  these  Southern 
troubles  ;  and  though  Mr.  Gildersleeve  ran  no  risk  of 
erring  in  that  direction,  he  began  to  see  how  the  real 

L  (159) 


160  THE   SHADOW  OF   THE   WAR. 

facts  were  misunderstood  both  in  the  North  and  the 
South.  The  latitude  made  the  greatest  difference 
in  the  way  people  looked  at  things.  In  the  North,  the 
white  man  was  thought  to  be  the  one  to  blame  ;  in  the 
South,  the  negro.  But  Mr.  Gildersleeve  had  already 
come  to  regard  both  these  assumptions  as  partially  false 
and  partially  true.  He  believed  now  that  the  situa 
tion  was  due  to  a  combination  of  causes,  in  which  no 
one  factor  was  the  sole  responsible  agent.  He  care 
fully  read  several  Southern  papers,  which  he  had 
selected  as  best  representing  the  tone  of  the  people. 
He  observed  the  wide  divergence  of  opinion  and 
fact  that  separated  Northern  and  Southern  journals, 
and  he  thought  anxiously  of  how  far  they  both 
were  from  the  truth. 

On  the  day  after  the  fire,  Major  Mixon  and  a  num 
ber  of  his  friends  organized  a  hunt  for  'Nezzar.  For 
nearly  a  week  they  kept  the  county  in  a  state  of  excite 
ment,  and  greatly  intensified  the  sympathy  of  the 
blacks  for  the  criminal.  They  rode  hard,  talked  more, 
and  swore  nearly  as  much  ;  but  all  these  mighty  exer 
tions  failed  of  their  purpose.  'Nezzar  escaped,  and 
the  negroes  rejoiced.  At  last  the  effort  to  find  him 
was  abandoned,  many  believing  that  he  had  gone  out 
of  the  State;  and  the  passions  of  most  of  those  inter 
ested  began  to  cool.  Not  so,  however,  with  Major 
Mixon.  He  had  an  intense  desire  to  meet  the  man, 
and  he  still  hoped  for  an  opportunity  to  pay  off  the 
score.  One  day  Mr.  Gildersleeve  met  him  in  Belle 
ville,  and  asked  him  whether  any  trace  of  the  negro 
had  been  obtained. 

"  No,  sir  !  "  thundered  the  Major.     "  No,  sir,  but 


MR.    GILDERSLEEVE  MORE  DISGUSTED.      161 

just  wait !  If  ever  I  do  catch  him  !  "  He 

ground  his  teeth  like  a  bull  dog,  while  a  sinister  light, 
that  boded  no  good  for  the  negro,  gleamed  from  his 
eyes. 

Somewhat  over  a  week  had  passed  since  the  inter 
view  with  Sharpe,  and  the  legislature  had  been  in  ses 
sion  for  several  days,  when  one  morning  Mr.  Gilder- 
sleeve  was  startled  at  reading  in  a  newspaper  the 
flaring  announcement  that  the  State  was  being  given 
over  to  Negroism.  The  cause  of  this  outburst  was 
that  on  the  previous  evening  a  Radical  caucus  had  nom 
inated  a  negro  named  Phelps  to  fill  a  supposed  vacancy 
in  the  Carrollton  judicial  circuit.  A  bitter  fight  had 
been  waged  in  the  party  over  the  matter,  Governor 
Northborn  strenuously  opposing  the  action  of  the 
caucus,  but  to  no  purpose  except  to  produce  an  almost 
open  rupture  between  himself  and  the  other  leaders. 
The  papers  warmly  supported  Northborn,  although  he 
was  the  foremost  man  of  the  opposite  party,  and  ac 
credited  him  with  lofty  motives.  With  equal  warmth, 
Phelps  was  assailed  and  denounced  as  a  dangerous 
man.  Could  this  negro  be  the  same  to  whom  Mr. 
Gravoir  was  to  write  about  their  charter  ?  It  was 
hardly  possible. 

On  the  day  after  reading  the  account  of  these 
political  doings  at  the  State  capitol,  Mr.  "Gildersleeve 
happened  to  be  in  Carrollton,  and  during  the  morning 
he  stopped  at  his  lawyer's  office  to  inquire  whether 
there  was  any  news  about  their  charter.  In  reply,  Mr. 
Gravoir  handed  him  two  letters  that  had  been  lately 
received,  saying,  with  a  smile  : 

"  One  of  them  contains  an  unsolicited  offer  to  assist 
us,  which  you  will  regard  as  rather  unique,  I  think." 


162  THE    SHADOW  OF    THE   WAR. 

The  first  letter  ran  thus  : 

"CLINTON,  Nov.  ,  187 — . 

"  FRANCIS  GRAVOIR,  Esq.,  Carrollton. 

"  Dear  Sir :  Yours  of inst.  at  hand.     I  regret  I 

was  absent  from  my  home  in  Oceanville  when  your  letter  arrived 
there,  and  important  public  business  has  since  prevented  me  from 
giving  the  matter  earlier  attention.  I  am  rather  surprised  that 
you  desire  me  to  take  charge  of  what  you  mention,  but  presume 
you  have  good  reasons  for  approaching  me  instead  of  some  one 
nearer  home.  I  will  therefore  accept  the  responsibility  of  the 
business,  and  endeavor  to  push  your  interests  promptly.  Forward 
the  papers  and  $2,000  at  once.  Hope  the  terms  will  be  satisfac 
tory,  as  they  are  positively  the  lowest  I  can  entertain. 
"  Respectfully, 

"  GEORGE  WASHINGTON  PHELPS." 

The  other  letter,  Mr.  Gildersleeve  was  at  first  un 
able  to  read,  it  was  so  illegible  and  smeared  over  with 
ink.  But,  assisted  by  Mr.  Gravior,  he  finally  deci 
phered  the  following  : 

"CLINTON,  Nov.  — ,  187 — . 

"  mister  frank  Gavoir,   i  tek  mi  pen  in  han  to  rite  yu  a  fu 
lins,  hopin  tha  will  fine  yu  wel  as  tha  leve  me  at  present  i  hev  jest 
heerd  that  yer  heve  a  bill  to  interduse  to  cuppurate  a  manfacturin 
compny.  i  heerd  that  yer  an   Sharpe  fall  out  on  mony  matters 
Sharpe  is  greedy  yer  no.  ef  yer  want  me  to  tek  charge  of  the  bill 
i  ant  got  no  objeckshuns  an  it  wont  cost  yer  no  mo  than  $500. 
"  hopin  i  will  here  from  yer  sune  i  remane 
"  your  troo  frien 

"  isik  smarts." 

Mr.  Gildersleeve  could  not  understand  who  Isaac 
Smarts  was. 

"  He  is  one  of  the  distinguished  representatives  of 
a  neighboring  county,  and  in  this  erudite  epistle  he  is 
soliciting  the  management  of  our  bill,"  explained  Mr. 
Gravoir. 


MR.    GILDERSLEEVE  MORE  DISGUSTED.      163 

"  A  legislator  of  this  civilized  State  !  It  cannot  be 
possible  that  such  an  ignorant  man  sits  in  the  halls  of 
your  legislature  !  " 

"  It  is  not  only  the  fact,  but  I  can  safely  assert  that 
mafny  of  our  representatives  have  much  less  education 
than  this  fellow.  There  are  not  a  few  who  can  neither 
read  nor  write,  and  you  have  evidence  of  this  man's 
ability  to  write." 

"  How  is  it  then  that  they  are  able  to  conduct  the 
affairs  of  the  government  ? " 

"  The  leaders,  or  most  of  them,  are  men  of  educa 
tion.  Indeed,  in  this  same  Radical  party  there  are  men 
of  considerable  ability.  They  conduct  the  business  of 
state,  and  take  the  lion's  share  of  the  spoils.  The 
other  more  ignorant  set  loaf  around  and  simply  obey 
the  leaders.  Being  men  of  small  desires,  they  are  sat 
isfied  with  a  paltry  share  of  the  plunder.  What  a  bril 
liant  government  for  an  enlightened  community  !  We 
have  no  reason  to  complain  !  No,  no  !  we  are  traitors 
to  the  Union — we  are  rebels — if  we  raise  our  voice 
against  the  existence  of  this  great  outrage  on  hu 
manity  ! " 

"  But  this  man  Phelps — the  two  thousand  dollar 
fellow, — is  he  the  same  whom  I  hear  spoken  of  as  a 
candidate  for  the  judgeship  of  this  circuit  ? "  asked 
Mr.  Gildersleeve. 

"  The  very  same  man  ;  but  I  do  not  believe  he  will 
be  elected.  The  Governor  is  opposing  his  election, 
and  I  hardly  think  the  horde  at  the  capital  will  dare 
to  thrust  such  an  additional  outrage  upon  us.  Besides, 
there  is  a  question  whether  a  vacancy  in  the  office 
exists." 

Mr.  Gildersleeve  finally  decided  to  call  a  meeting 


164  THE   SHADOW  OF   THE   WAR. 

of  all  interested  in  the  prospective  corporation,  to  con 
sider  some  new  course  of  action.  That  afternoon  the 
gentlemen  met  in  Mr.  Gravoir's  office,  and  a  prolonged 
discussion  ensued.  Mr.  Gildersleeve  plainly  stated 
his  hesitation  to  invest  money  where  the  political  and 
social  conditions  were  so  unsatisfactory.  The  South 
erners,  however,  were  loth  to  lose  this  opportunity  of 
gaining  a  large  amount  of  business  capital,  and  after 
some  argument  Mr.  Gildersleeve  was  induced  to  con 
tinue  his  efforts  to  obtain  the  charter.  But  he  stated 
distinctly  that  getting  a  charter  should  not  be  held  as 
finally  pledging  him  to  the  scheme,  in  case  he  wished 
to  retire.  On  his  suggestion,  it  was  determined  to 
place  the  bill  at  once  in  the  hands  of  a  Democratic 
representative  and  let  it  take  its  chances ;  although 
several  of  the  gentlemen  present  expressed  the  opinion 
that  such  a  course  was  tantamount  to  doing  nothing. 
Mr.  Gildersleeve  made  no  reply  to  this;  but  he  secretly 
thought  that  never  again  would  he  willingly  have  busi 
ness  with  a  Southern  legislature. 


CHAPTER   XVII. 

A   LEGISLATIVE   SCENE. 

TWO  months  and  more  passed  by.  Christmas 
and  the  New  Year  had  come  and  gone,  and 
the  middle  of  February  was  nigh.  The  winter  had 
been  unusually  mild,  and  except  for  occasional  damp 
rainy  days,  the  Gildersleeves  could  almost  imagine  the 
presence  of  one  long  delightful  autumn,  which  was 
now  gradually  merging  into  an  invigorating  spring. 
Flowers  began  to  appear  ;  the  delicious  little  violet, 
the  harbinger  of  the  Southern  floral  year,  had  long 
since  unfolded  its  modest  petals  under  the  coaxing  of 
the  soft  weather.  The  budding  of  the  trees,  the  joy 
ous  merriment  of  the  feathered  tribe,  and  the  insinua 
ting  cheerfulness  of  these  sunshiny  days,  announced 
the  advent  of  spring  in  that  language  which  Nature 
never  uses  ambiguously. 

Hortense  felt  the  influence  of  the  season,  and  during 
these  brighter  hours  she  spent  most  of  the  time  in  the 
open  air.  With  the  assistance  of  an  accomplished  gar 
dener,  she  had  busied  herself  for  some  time  in  the  long- 
neglected  garden  on  their  premises,  and  now  her 
desires  and  labors  began  to  reap  reward.  Almost  cov 
ering  one  of  the  fences,  grew  naturally  the  yellow  jessa 
mine,  the  Southern  vine  of  which  she  had  heard  so 
much  ;  and  she  waited  impatiently  for  the  rich  yield 
of  blossoms  which  its  luxurious  growth  promised.  The 

(165) 


160  THE   SHADOW  OF    THE   WAR. 

love  of  flowers  was  inborn  with  her.  Everything  that 
was  pure  and  beautiful  she  loved  in  a  simple  anafervent 
way,  because  she  found  a  pleasure  in  loving.  -But  her 
feelings  seldom  took  the  form  of  outward  demonstra 
tion  ;  she  was  one  of  those  individuals  who  instinctively 
shrink  from  rude  contact  of  their  thoughts  and  ideas 
with  those  of  people  whose  nature  is  of  coarser  mould. 
Her  sensitiveness,  together  with  her  pride,  had  gradu 
ally  combined  to  develop  in  her  a  studied  habit  of  re 
serve.  When  she  gathered  a  bouquet  of  delicate  half- 
blown  roses,  her  appreciation  of  them  was  too  keen  to 
be  wasted  in  outward  demonstrations ;  but  she  had 
that  inward  glow  of  satisfaction  which  springs  from 
thorough  enjoyment.  Under  her  calm  and  apparently 
cold  exterior,  her  strong  emotional  nature  throbbed 
violently  at  times.  But  the  world  in  which  she  moved, 
and  even  to  some  extent  her  own  parents,  did  not  un 
derstand  the  girl.  She  was  capable  of  surprising  even 
those  who  thought  they  knew  her  best. 

She  had  a  strong  love  for  flowers.  She  always  im 
agined  them  living  creatures,  and  she  had  read  some 
where  that  they  possessed  sensibility  ;  so  she  jealously 
guarded  their  welfare,  and  no  unnecessary  plucking 
was  ever  permitted  on  her  bushes  ;  she  would  have 
regarded  it  as  cruelty.  Although  she  had  lived  in  the 
North,  yet  the  ample  means  of  her  family  had  always 
enabled  her  to  have  flowers  in  abundance ;  but  she 
had  had  no  plot  of  her  own  to  cultivate,  and  greenhouse 
plants  seemed  to  her  so  artificial  compared  with  these 
hardy  products  of  generous  sunshine.  Never  before 
had  she  seen  such  floral  profusion  in  the  open  air  as 
during  the  previous  fall,  when  even  the  humblest  gar 
dens  seemed  to  her  unaccustomed  eye  a  blaze  of  color. 


A   LEGISLATIVE    SCENE.  167 

To  have  her  own  flowers  was  now  one  of  her  lesser 
ambitions  ;  and  accordingly  a  gardener  had  been  en 
gaged.  Steadily  the  two  worked  together  ;  he  was  in 
earnest  and  liked  his  duties,  which  pleased  Hortense. 
In  turn,  her  enthusiasm  encouraged  him,  and  thus  a 
sort  of  sympathy  seemed  to  grow  up  between  the  man 
and  his  young  mistress.  Mr.  Gildersleeve,  with  his 
practical  view  of  things  in  general,  regarded  the  work 
as  useful  employment ;  and  her  mother  smiled  approv 
ingly  when  Hortense  came  in  with  soiled  hands  and 
draggled  skirts,  but  with  a  blush-rose  tinge  mantling 
her  fair  cheek. 

One  day  her  father  brought  home  some  orange  blos 
soms  as  a  curiosity.  Hortense  examined  them,  and 
declared  that  they  were  very  ugly  and  uninteresting. 
In  fact,  it  hurt  her  to  look  at  them,  though  she  would 
have  been  deeply  mortified  had  any  one  even  hinted 
the  fact.  Her  father  laughingly  told  her  that  she  was 
not  much  like  other  girls,  and  was  sure  to  be  an  old 
maid.  Hortense  retorted  by  asking  him  to  buy  her  a 
cat  and  some  knitting-needles — both  of  which  she  cor 
dially  detested — so  that  she  could  begin  her  life  of 
spinsterhood  in  earnest.  In  her  heart  she  was  glad 
that  there  were  no  orange  trees  with  their  blossoms 
in  her  garden.  They  would  only  bring  up  thoughts 
that  she  wished  to  banish  as  long  as  possible. 

Mr.  Gildersleeve  had  but  little  taste  for  flowers, 
save  that  he  liked  to  have  his  grounds  and  house  orna 
mented  like  those  of  his  neighbors.  But  he  became 
more  deeply  interested  each  day  in  the  politics  of  his 
State.  With  the  exception  of  a  week's  recess  at  Christ 
mas,  the  legislature  had  been  in  session  since  early  in 
November.  Agreeably  to  the  decision  of  the  incor- 


168  THE   SHADOW  OF   THE  WAR. 

porators,  the  bill  providing  for  the  charter  of  the  com 
pany  had  been  committed  to  the  care  of  a  Democratic 
representative,  and  Mr.  Gildersleeve  had  learned 
that  it  had  received  its  first  reading.  Closely  he 
watched  the  proceedings.  At  times  he  was  shocked  ; 
again,  he  felt  that  the  civilization  of  his  coun 
try  was  outraged  if  these  reports  were  true — and 
he  saw  no  reason  to  believe  them  unreliable  if  divested 
of  the  usual  newspaper  flourish.  Governor  Northborn 
had  made  a  determined  stand  against  the  nomination 
of  Phelps  for  the  judgeship,  and  the  matter  had  been 
postponed  from  time  to  time.  But  now  news  came 
that  the  friends  of  Phelps  were  again  urging  his 
claims,  and  that  a  crisis  would  soon  be  reached.  The 
business  men  of  Carrollton  were  again  alarmed,  and 
the  newspapers  immediately  became  inflammatory  at 
the  mere  prospect  of  Phelps  sitting  on  the  bench. 
What  manner  of  government  is  this  ?  Mr.  Gilder- 
sleeve  asked  of  himself  more  than  once ;  and  having 
an  abundance  of  leisure,  he  gave  much  of  his  thoughts 
to  the  political  situation. 

It  was  about  the  middle  of  February,  when  Mr. 
Gravoir  received  a  letter  from  Mr.  Francklyn,  to  whose 
care  the  bill  had  been  committed.  This  representative 
urged  the  necessity  of  having  some  one  at  the  State 
capital  to  look  after  the  interests  of  the  company.  He 
stated  that  the  bill  would  soon,  he  hoped,  receive  its 
second  reading  ;  but  as  Sharpe  and  Phelps  had  mani 
fested  opposition  to  its  passage,  and  had  threatened  it 
with  defeat,  he  did  not  know  what  would  be  the  out 
come.  Mr.  Gravior  saw  that  necessity  for  action  was 
urgent,  if  the  bill  was  to  be  passed  at  this  session. 
Personal  influence  might  accomplish  much  among  the 


A   LEGISLATIVE   SCENE.  169 

dusky  representatives  at  the  State  capital,  if  accom 
panied  by  a  judicious  use  of  the"  sinewsof  war."  He 
saw  no  wrong  in  these  methods  under  the  circum 
stances.  Sheer  necessity  often  compelled  a  resort  to 
them ;  and  perhaps,  as  he  had  said,  long  acquaintance 
may  have  dulled  his  sensibilities.  Mr.  Gildersleeve, 
however,  would  not  consent  to  such  a  mode  of  action  ; 
and  there,  of  course,  the  matter  rested.  But  Mr.  Gra- 
voir  believed  that  if  the  Northerner's  most  vital  com 
mercial  interests  were  located  in  the  State,  and  it  was 
their  safety  which  he  was  watching,  and  not  merely  the 
progress  of  a  plaything  of  a  factory,  he  would  find 
himself  forced  by  the  irresistible  current  of  political 
society  to  place  a  little  money  here  and  there,  in  order 
to  protect  what  his  industry  had  gained  ;  in  other 
words,  he  would  be  obliged  to  pay  this  additional  tax, 
unjust  and  oppressive  though  it  might  be. 

Mr.  Gravoir  found  that  his  engagements  would  pre 
vent  his  attendance  at  the  capital, — and,  indeed,  he 
did  not  see  how  he  could  accomplish  the  desired  result 
if  deprived  of  the  most  powerful,  and,  in  fact,  the  only 
effective,  weapon.  But  as  Mr.  Gildersleeve  was  anx 
ious  that  some  one  should  attend,  it  was  arranged  that 
he  and  Maurice  Graham  should  together  proceed  to 
Clinton,  the  capital,  and  look  after  the  progress  of  the 
bill.  Mr.  Gildersleeve  was  quite  curious  to  have  a 
close  view  of  the  Southern  legislature  which  had  caused 
him  so  much  annoyance,  and  he  was  pleased  with  Mau 
rice  as  a  delightful  companion  who  held  liberal  opin 
ions  and  understood  thoroughly  the  times  and  the  men 
of  the  State.  So  one  evening  they  boarded  a  train 
for  Clinton  ;  and  after  rumbling  along  all  night  at  a 
sort  of  dog-trot  rate  of  speed,  which  seemed  to  the 


170  THE   SHADOW  OF   THE   WAR. 

energetic  Northerner  in  perfect  keeping  with  what  he 
had  expected  of  a  Southern  railroad,  they  arrived 
safely  at  their  destination,  and  were  soon  afterwards 
making  themselves  comfortable  at  the  hotel. 

On  coming  out  from  breakfast,  they  met  Mr.  Franck- 
lyn,  to  whom  Maurice  introduced  Mr.  Gildersleeve. 
The  party  sought  a  sitting-room,  and  the  prospects  of 
the  bill  were  at  once  broached.  Mr.  Francklyn  ex 
pressed  himself  briefly,  but  pointedly.  He  did  not 
think  the  bill  would  pass.  He  had  talked  to  many 
of  the  members,  and  had  repeatedly  urged  the  claims 
of  the  bill  upon  the  committeemen  to  whom  it  had 
been  referred.  Sharpe  and  Phelps  had  been  watching 
him  closely,  and,  in  a  quiet  way,  had  been  very  active 
in  arousing  opposition  to  the  charter.  He  was  afraid 
that  all  his  efforts  would  be  overcome  by  the  two  poli 
ticians.  Still,  he  would  endeavor  to  bring  the  bill  again 
before  the  House,  and  do  his  utmost  to  have  it  passed. 
Mr.  Gildersleeve  could  complain  of  no  lack  of  interest 
on  Mr.  Francklyn 's  part. 

"  Is  there  any  news  about  the  judicial  election  ?  " 
asked  Maurice,  when  the  first  subject  was  exhausted. 

"  Yes,  the  Republicans  held  another  caucus  last 
night,  and  I  have  heard  that  they  are  determined  to 
press  the  election  of  Phelps  and  Murphy,"  returned 
Mr.  Francklyn.  "  In  fact,  I  understood  that  the  mat 
ter  would  come  up  to-day.  I'm  afraid  the  Governor 
will  be  beaten." 

"  Is  Phelps  a  native  of  this  State  ?  "  asked  Mr.  Gil 
dersleeve. 

"  I  hardly  know,"  returned  Maurice.  "  Report 
says  that  while  quite  a  lad  he  escaped  from  slavery  to 
the  North,  where  he  fell  into  good  hands  and  received 


A   LEGISLATIVE   SCENE.  171 

a  superficial  education.  Towards  the  close  of  the  war 
he  joined  a  black  regiment,  and  when  the  troops  were 
disbanded  he  found  himself  in  Carrollton.  He  soon 
embarked  in  politics  and  has  been  sent  to  almost  every 
legislature  since.  He  has  asked  and  received  bribes 
innumerable,  and  he  has  been  a  member  of  various 
committees  notorious  for  their  unbounded  frauds.  His 
speeches  are  of  the  most  incendiary  character,  and  he 
is  known  to  have  been  an  active  fomenter  of  disturb 
ances  between  the  whites  and  the  blacks.  He  has  no 
legal  knowledge,  but  he  is  shrewd  and  unscrupulous, 
and  as  a  judge  he  would  be  a  most  dangerous  man." 

"  Is  Murphy,  the  candidate  for  the  other  vacancy, 
any  better  ? " 

"  No,  sir,  not  a  bit,"  answered  Mr.  Francklyn 
promptly.  "  He  is  no  less  steeped  in  crime  ;  the  chief 
difference  is  in  their  color.  Murphy  is  a  dissolute, 
licentious  spendthrift, — a  native  of  this  State, — and 
during  his  administration  as  Governor  he  seemed  to 
take  a  delight  in  outraging  morals  and  society  by  his 
public  indecencies.  He  left  the  gubernatorial  mansion, 
a  bankrupt.  He  made  the  pardoning  power  an  affair 
of  open  bargain  and  sale  ;  the  last  act  of  his  executive 
career  was  to  sell  his  signature  to  the  pardon  of  a 
criminal  for  five  dollars.  An  actual  fact,  sir  !  That's 
the  kind  of  man,"  added  Mr.  Francklyn,  with  some 
bitterness,  "  that  the  Republican  party  has  produced 
in  the  South  ;  the  man  whom  it  made  a  governor,  and 
whom  it  now  wants  to  elevate  to  a  judgeship  !  " 

Mr.  Gildersleeve  said  nothing ;  he  no  longer 
experienced  surprise,  as  he  had  done  at  first. 

"  I  know  a  rich  story,  in  which  Phelps  and  Murphy 
are.  the  leading  characters,"  continued  Mr.  Francklyn, 


172  THE   SHADOW  OF   THE   WAR. 

after  a  short  interval  of  silence,  "  and  which  very  well 
illustrates  their  utter  worthlessness.  Some  years  back, 
Murphy  and  Phelps  were  both  members  of  the  House, 
the  former  being  Speaker.  They  both  owned  fast 
horses,  whose  speed  they  delighted  in  showing  off. 
One  day  they  arranged  for  a  trotting  match,  each 
betting  a  thousand  dollars  on  his  horse.  On  the  morn 
ing  appointed  for  the  race — although  the  close  of  the 
term  was  near,  and  business  was  being  rushed  through 
with  great  rapidity — the  House  adjourned  until  even 
ing.  No  reason  was  given  for  this  surprising  act,  but 
it  was  tacitly  understood  that  the  majority  of  the 
members  desired  the  time  to  attend  the  race.  The 
horses  ran  ;  Murphy,  the  Speaker,  lost,  and  became 
indebted  to  Phelps  for  the  amount  staked.  Of  course, 
no  actual  money  had  been  put  up.  On  the  last  day  of 
the  session  Phelps  moved  '  that  a  gratuity  of  one 
thousand  dollars  be  offered  the  Speaker  of  this  House, 
for  the  dignity  and  ability  with  which  he  has  presided 
over  its  deliberations.'  The  party  obediently  voted  as 
directed  ;  and  thus  the  State  was  made  to  pay  a  bet 
lost  by  its  Speaker  at  a  horse  race  !  Oh,  there's  no 
mistake  !  Those  fellows  bragged  about  it,"  continued 
Mr.  Francklyn,  noticing  a  slight  expression  of 
incredulity  on  Mr.  Gildersleeve's  countenance.  "  You 
never  hear  of  these  things  up  North, — of  course  not. 
It  is  not  for  the  interest  of  the  party  that  you  should. 
The  journal  of  the  House  records  the  adjournment 
and  the  gratuity,  and  the  newspapers  of  the  day 
describe  the  race  as  coming  off  during  the  adjourn 
ment,  with  three-fourths  of  the  legislators  in  attend 
ance." 

"  The  affair  caused  considerable  indignation  at  the 


A   LEGISLATIVE   SCENE.  173 

time,"  added  Maurice,  "  but  that  never  affected  the 
participants.  The  more  the  whites  rage,  the  louder  is 
the  applause  of  the  negroes.  I  remember  hearing  my 
father  say  that  this  one  transaction  furnished  a  com 
plete  commentary  upon  our  government." 

Mr.  Gildersleeve  remained  in  convinced  silence. 
He  began  to  feel  a  shame  that  he  could  not  express,  for 
this  Republican  party  in  the  South. 

The  time  was  now  near  ten  o'clock  ;  and  as  the 
legislature  was  to  meet  at  that  hour,  Mr.  Francklyn 
proposed  that  the  party  should  proceed  to  the  State 
House.  A  walk  of  a  few  minutes  brought  them  to  the 
Capitol,  which  was  a  large  white  stone  building,  origi 
nally  massive  and  imposing  in  its  design,  but  now,  in 
its  unfinished  condition,  presented  a  bare  and  ungainly 
appearance.  They  entered,  and  proceeded  at  once  to 
the  hall  of  the  house,  where  Mr.  Francklyn  assigned 
convenient  seats  to  his  friends.  The  House  had  not 
as  yet  been  called  to  order  ;  the  confusion  that  existed 
told  that  fact  unmistakably.  Maurice,  as  soon  as  he 
saw  his  companion  comfortably  seated,  excused  himself 
and  disappeared  in  the  crowd  upon  the  floor.  Mr. 
Francklyn  remained  for  some  minutes,  pointing  out  the 
more  prominent  men,  and  then  he  too  withdrew. 

Mr.  Gildersleeve  viewed  the  scene  with  intense 
interest.  With  the  exception  of  about  twenty  mem 
bers,  the  House  was  composed  entirely  of  men  of  more 
or  less  negro  blood.  The  out-and-out  Africans,  with 
kinky  hair,  thick  bestial  lips,  flat  nose,  and  shining 
skin,  were  perhaps  the  most  numerous,  and  among 
them  were  some  splendid  specimens  of  fully  developed 
animals.  These  were  the  lowest  of  all  in  intelligence  ;  a 
few,  like  Phelps,  possessed  a  fair  amount  of  ability,  but 


174  THE   SHADOW  OF    THE    WAR. 

they  were  the  rare  exceptions.  Next  came  the  ginger 
bread  mulatto,  proud  of  his  superiority  over  the  black 
man,  who,  in  turn,  boasted  of  his  purer  blood.  Look 
ing  patronisingly  upon  both  of  these  was  the  light- 
colored  octoroon,  suave  and  insinuating  in  his  manners, 
an  exquisite  in  his  own  eyes,  irresistible  among  women, 
and  a  knave  in  all  his  dealings.  A  grand  success  as  a 
barber  or  a  valet  de  chambre,  his  intelligence  and  moral 
elasticity  had  enabled  him  to  take  early  advantage  of 
the  opportunities  afforded  by  Southern  politics.  These 
were  the  more  marked  types ;  but  besides  them  almost 
every  shade  of  color  could  be  seen,  and  the  personnel  of 
the  House  presented  to  the  eye  of  a  stranger  a  highly 
mosaic  appearance.  Very  few  of  the  members  were 
as  yet  in  their  seats,  and  these  were  in  the  lazy  abandon 
ment  of  the  easiest  positions.  A  few  were  lying  on 
lounges,  sleeping  off  the  last  night's  debauch  ;  others 
were  eating  peanuts — the  popular  legislative  refresh 
ment  of  the  period — to  while  away  the  time.  Many 
of  the  members  were  smoking  or  chewing  tobacco,  and 
in  expectorating  they  evinced  not  the  least  respect  for 
place.  Numerous  small  groups  decorated  the  floor. 
Most  of  them  seemed  engaged  in  earnest  conversation, 
punctuated  occasionally  by  violent  gesticulation.  In 
close  proximity  to  Mr.  Gildersleeve  was  one  of  these 
groups.  As  the  discussion  waxed  warmer,  their 
laughter  became  more  boisterous  and  the  conversation 
more  plainly  audible. 

"  Oh,  de  caucus  has  fixed  tings,"  said  a  big  negro. 
"  No  use  fur  de  buckra  ter  kick  no  mo';  we'se  all  solid 
fur  Phelps  now." 

"  De  white  trash  will  choke  'eself  when  dey  sees 
how  we'se  got  "em  dis  time  !  " 


A    LEGISLATIVE   SCENE.  175 

"  Golly  !  an'  de  Gub'ner  too  !  'Feared  like  he  wanted 
ter  boss  dis  great  'Publikin  party  !  " 

"  The  d — d  traitor  !  "  interposed  a  flashy  octoroon. 
"  He  wanted  to  sell  out  to  the  white  folks  ;  but  I 
guess  he'll  find  himself  left.  We've  got  the  power, 
and  by !  we'll  use  it !  " 

"  You're  right,  brudder ;  ef  de  Gub'ner  calculates 
ter  be  our  leader,  he  mustn't  be  reposed  terdenomina- 
shun  of  a  black  man." 

"  Fore  de  Lord,  we'se  gwine  'lect  Phelps  dis  time!" 

"  We'll  'peach  de  Gub'ner,  ef  he  don't  'tend  his  own 
business  !  " 

"  Dat  we  will,  ef  he  don't  sign  de  commission  !  " 

"  Golly  !  won't  de  white  folks  git  rippin'  mad  when 
dey  hears  dat  a  cullud  genelman  is  ter  be  dere 
jedge  ! " 

Loud  laughter  followed  this  last  remark,  while  the 
ebony  faces  in  the  group  displayed  no  little  merriment 
at  the  prospective  discomfiture  of  the  whites.  It  was 
a  joke  which  they  could  thoroughly  appreciate. 

At  this  moment  the  Speaker's  gavel  was  rapped 
furiously  on  his  desk  ;  the  groups  were  broken  up,  and 
the  members  sought  their  seats  amid  much  confusion. 
During  the  noise,  Mr.  Gildersleeve  heard  his  name 
spoken,  and  turning  around  he  saw  Sharpe  at  his 
elbow. 

"  When  did  you  arrive  ?  "  asked  the  latter.  "  Glad 
to  see  you." 

Mr.  Gildersleeve  answered  with  a  ceremonious  bow, 
not  deigning  to  speak  or  rise  from  his  seat.  Altogether 
unabashed  by  this  cool  reception,  Sharpe  drew  nearer, 
and  lowering  his  voice  said,  almost  in  a  whisper  : 

"  Mr.  Gildersleeve,  there  is  yet  time  to  fix  that  bill. 
M 


176  THE  SHADOW  OF   THE   WAR. 

Better  not  waste  your  last  chance.  Give  me  your  note 
for  twenty-five  hundred,  and  I'll  forget  the  past." 

Looking  at  him  steadily,  the  Northerner  answered  : 
"  You're  a  scoundrel  !  " 

"Aha!  "  retorted  Sharpe,  "still  calling  bad  names, 
eh  ?  Well,  you'll  whistle  for  your  charter,  my  Yankee 
friend,"  and  with  an  intensely  malignant  sneer,  he  de 
parted. 

When  the  members  were  seated,  the  Speaker — a 
pure-blooded  African — declared  the  House  called  to 
order.  The  roll  was  read,  and  then  the  chaplain — a 
negro  preacher — opened  the  exercises  with  prayer.  Mr. 
Gildersleeve  could  not  fail  to  realize  the  mockery  of 
the  whole  proceeding. 

Maurice  had  rejoined  him,  and  as  soon  as  the  pray 
ers  were  finished,  he  said  to  his  friend  : 

"  I  am  sorry  to  tell  you  that  I  see  very  little  chance 
for  our  bill  at  present.  The  members  are  thinking  of 
nothing  but  the  election  of  Phelps  and  Murphy,  and 
they  would  not  even  listen  to  me." 

Mr.  Gildersleeve  made  no  reply.  He  was  begin 
ning  to  lose  all  interest  in  the  bill. 

The  preliminaries  of  opening  the  House  having  been 
finished,  the  Speaker  announced  that  a  new  member, 
recently  elected  to  fill  a  vacancy,  was  ready  to  be  sworn 
in.  The  candidate  for  legislative  honors  came  for 
ward,  took  the  oath,  and  was  declared  a  member  of 
the  House.  As  he  walked  down  the  aisle  to  find  a 
seat,  Maurice  exclaimed  to  his  companion  : 

"  Why,  that  fellow  was  one  of  our  plantation  ne 
groes  !  How  could  he  manage  to  get  here  ?  Father 
discharged  him  last  year  because  of  his  unconquera 
ble  laziness,  and  besides,  he  is  a  confirmed  petty  thief. 


A    LEGISLATIVE   SCENE.  377 

* 

Here  he  comes,"  and  as  the  negro  passed  down,  the 
young  man  stopped  him.  He  was  a  tall,  full-blooded 
Ethiopian,  dressed  in  a  dirty  jean  suit  and  yellow  bro- 
gans,  and  his  dark  shirt  was  open  at  the  neck,  exposing 
his  breast. 

"  Hello  !  Neptune,  how  did  you  get  here  ? "  asked 
Maurice. 

The  negro  turned,  and  perceiving  him,  exclaimed 
in  surprise  :  "  For  laws'  sakes  !  Massa  Maurice,  is  dat 
you  ? "  Then  drawing  himself  up  proudly,  and  smil 
ing  complacently,  he  continued  : 

"  How  I  git  yar  ?  Hi  !  Well,  yer  see,  when  I  left 
de  Kunnel's  place  I  turned  my  'tendon  to  politiks.  De 
niggers  'lowed,  sensible  like,  dat  I  knowed  mo'  dan 
dey  did,  so  dey  sen'  me  yar.  I  kin  mek  heap  mo' 
money  yar  dan  in  de  field,  an'  I  kin  lib  like  a  white 
genelman.  Massa  Maurice,"  with  some  emphasis, 
"ef  yer  pa  was  fur  ter  gib  me  twice  de  wages, 
I  wouldn't  go  back  ter  de  plantation  no  mo'  !  " 

"  Do  you  think  Phelps  will  be  elected  judge  of  our 
circuit  ? " 

"  Well,  I  ain't  heard  much  about  dat  yit,  not  yit,"  re 
plied  Neptune  gravely,  and  with  an  air  of  supreme 
importance.  This  moment,  when  he  was  able  to  show 
his  importance  before  his  former  master's  son,  was  one 
of  the  happiest  in  the  fellow's  life.  "  I'se  only  been  yar 
sence  airly  dis  mornin1,  an'  I  ain't  had  no  chance  yit  fur 
ter  larn  wot  dey  is  gwine  ter  do.  But  I  'spec'  dey'll  'lect 
a  cullud  pusson  jedge.  De  leaders,  dey  says  dat  de  cul- 
lud  mens  hab  de  right  ter  de  highest  offices,  an?  I 
'gree  wid  dem.  Phelps  will  mek  a  boss  jedge.  I 
'spec'  I'll  vote  fur  him." 


178  THE   SHADOW  OF   THE   WAR. 

"  Don't  you  know  he's  one  of  the  worst  reprobates 
in  the  State  ? " 

"  Wot's  dat  ?  I  reckon  yer  means  dat  he's  a  bad 
man,  eh  ? "  Maurice  smiled  and  nodded.  "  Dat's  wot 
you  white  folks  allus  say.  Ef  de  party  wants  Phelps, 
I'se  gwine  tervote  fur  him,  onless  dis  nigger's  a  fool  ! 
Good-bye,  Massa  Maurice." 

"  Get  along  !  "  returned  Maurice,  somewhat  angrily. 
"  The  time  is  coming  when  you  ignorant  fellows  will 
have  to  work  instead  of  posing  as  legislators." 

Neptune  walked  off,  unimpressed  by  this  prophecy. 
Very  few  of  the  jackals  thought  then  that  the  day  of 
retribution  was  so  near. 

Mr.  Gildersleeve  touched  Maurice  on  the  arm,  and 
pointed  to  the  center  of  the  hall.  Mr.  Francklyn  had 
risen  from  his  seat. 

"  Mr.  Speaker,"  he  was  saying,  "the  next  bill  on  the 
calendar  is  one  to  grant  a  charter  to  the  Pioneer  Mill 
ing  Company,  an  enterprise  in  which  the  whole  State  is 
more  or  less  interested.  I  move  that  we  proceed  to  its 
second  reading." 

Sharpe,  who  seemed  to  be  busy  with  some  other 
politicians,  looked  up  quickly  and  exclaimed  : 

"  I  object  to  the  motion  of  the  gentleman  from 
Williamson  County."  He  then  added,  apparently 
sotto  vocc,  but  in  a  tone  audible  half  way  across  the  hall  : 
"  We  have  more  important  business  on  hand  to-day 
than  granting  charters  to  monopolists."  He  con 
tinued,  in  a  louder  tone  :  "  The  judicial  elections  have 
been  made  the  special  order  for  the  day.  I  move  we 
proceed  at  once  to  the  election,  and  that  a  messenger 
be  sent  to  notify  the  Senate." 

Mr.    Francklyn,   assisted    by    several    Democrats, 


A    LEGISLATIVE   SCENE.  ]?9 

pressed  his  motion  ;  but  in  vain.  One  of  Sharpe's 
fellows  moved  to  table,  and  as  the  roll  was  called,  over 
two-thirds  of  the  votes  were  recorded  in  favor  of  throt 
tling,  in  its  very  incipiency,  this  new  and  valuable  indus 
try. 

Sharpe  had  the  field  undisputed.  He  again  offered 
his  motion,  the  vote  was  taken,  and  the  Speaker  an 
nounced  that  the  election  was  in  order.  A  mes 
senger  was  dispatched  to  summon  the  Senate  imme 
diately. 

"  Do  you  wjsh  to  remain  in  this  place  any  longer  ?  " 
asked  Mr.  Gildersleeve  of  Maurice. 

"  Suppose  we  wait  until  this  election  is  over." 

But  a  few  minutes  had  passed,  when  the  Senators 
appeared  and  took  their  seats.  Mr.  Gildersleeve 
noticed  that  the  African  race  furnished  a  fair  propor 
tion  of  members  to  this  body  also.  As  soon  as  all 
were  seated,  the  President  of  the  Assembly — the  Lieu 
tenant  Governor,  a  negro, — announced  that  the  chair 
was  ready  to  receive  nominations  for  the  judgeship  of 
the  first  (Carrollton)  circuit.  Sharpe  at  once  gained 
the  floor,  and  in  a  few  terse  sentences  nominated 
Phelps.  He  then  proceeded  to  paint  the  character  of 
the  nominee  : 

"  An  honest,  fearless,  upright  man Born 

a  slave,  ground  down  by  the  cruelties  of  the  most 
fiendish  oppression,  yet  amid  all  the  debasing  influ 
ences  of  that  barbarous  institution,  the  Honorable  Mr. 
Phelps  had  fostered  the  spirit  of  a  freeman  in  his 
bosom.  He  had  borne  himself  haughtily  before  his 
temporal  master,  knowing  himself  a  man  in  the  sight 
of  God !  ...  Escaping  from  his  persecutors,  he 
became  a  Union  soldier,  fighting  in  the  glorious  cause 


180  THE   SHADOW  OF   THE   WAR. 

of  liberty,  and  offering  up  his  blood,  his  life,  his  all, 
for  the  freedom  of  his  race  !  .  .  .  .  The  victory  gained, 
and  the  sacred  cause  of  Right  and  Justice  once  more 
triumphant,  he  felt  that  his  duty  was  done  ;  and  I  say 
to  you  that  it  was  nobly  done  !  He  studied  law,  and 
entered  upon  the  practice  of  his  profession.  But  the 
necessities  of  the  times  were  too  great,  they  were  too 
imperative,  to  permit  a  man  of  such  noble  instincts, 
such  practical  sagacity  in  the  affairs  of  life,  of  such 
unshaken  integrity,  of  such  depth  of  intellect,  to  remain 
quietly  in  the  walks  of  private  life."  ("  What  a  pair  of 
villains  !  "  thought  Gildersleeve).  "  His  race  had  called 
upon  Mr.  Phelps  to  represent  them  in  the  political 
arena,  as  he  had  once  done  upon  the  battlefield,  to 
repulse  the  continual  encroachments  of  their  former 
masters,  to  preserve  that  liberty  which  his  gallant  arm 
had  assisted  in  snatching  from  the  muzzle  of  the  can 
non.  Abandoning  at  once  his  most  cherished  pro 
jects,  and  with  a  self-abnegation  above  compare,  Mr. 
Phelps  had  obeyed  the  call  of  his  people.  I  am  proud," 
cried  Sharpe,  who  was  an  excellent  speaker,  "that  I 
have  the  honor  of  nominating  a  colored  gentleman  for 
this  position,  and  you  should  all  feel  glad  to  recognize 
merit,  to  reward  sacrifice,  and  to  fulfil  a  duty  !  Colored 
men  have  been  Congressmen.  They  are  legislators  of 
this  State.  The  President  of  this  Assembly  and  the 
Speaker  of  this  House  are  colored  gentlemen,  who  fill 
their  posts  with  honor  to  themselves  and  to  their  con 
stituents.  The  colored  race  now  demands  that  one  of 
its  people  shall  be  a  judge.  Woe  unto  you  if  you 
hearken  not  to  that  just  demand." 

Sharpe  sat  down,  and  the  most  uproarious  applause 
followed  his  effort.     The  large  hall  fairly  echoed  and 


A    LEGISLATIVE   SCENE.  181 

re-echoed  with  the  shouts.  One  huge  negro  hastily 
mounted  a  chair  and  cried  out  excitedly: 

"  I  rise  tu  a  pint  ob  order  !     I  calls  de  question  !  " 

The  President  called  him  to  order,  but  his  voice 
and  the  gavel  could  scarcely  be  heard  above  the  din. 
At  last,  when  comparative  silence  was  restored,  Mr. 
Francklyn  rose  and  nominated  a  white  Republican,  an 
honest  man  whom  the  party  had  long  since  practically 
repudiated.  While  the  claims  of  this  nominee  were 
being  advocated,  Mr.  Gildersleeve  turned  to  Maurice 
and  said  : 

"  I  have  Phelps's  letter  in  regard  to  our  charter 
with  me.  Do  you  think  any  use  can  be  made  of  it?" 

"  Possibly  ;  let  me  have  it,  and  I  will  see." 

Taking  the  letter,  Graham  passed  rapidly  across 
the  hall  to  one  of  the  Democrats,  and  explaining  the 
connections  of  the  letter,  he  delivered  it  to  the  repre 
sentative  with  the  request  to  make  of  it  what  use  he 
could.  As  soon  as  Mr.  Francklyn  sat  down,  this  gen 
tleman  rose  and  read  its  contents.  For  a  moment  or 
two  after  he  had  finished  there  was  a  dead  silence. 
Then  Sharpe  jumped  up  wildly  and  called  the  ques 
tion.  The  spell  was  broken,  and  member  after  mem 
ber  shouted  the  same  demaud.  The  balloting  began, 
and  half  an  hour  afterwards  the  President  announced 
that  the  "  Honorable  George  Washington  Phelps  had 
been  duly  elected  judge  of  the  first  circuit." 

Following  this  announcement,  another  and  wilder 
scene  of  confusion  ensued.  The  darkies  screamed 
and  yelled  for  joy.  Some  three  or  four,  seizing  Phelps, 
jerked  him  up  on  a  desk  and  demanded  a  speech. 

"  Come,  let  us  go,"  said  Mr.  Gildersleeve.  "  But 
before  we  do,  see  Mr.  Francklyn  and  tell  him  I  wish 


182  THE   SHADOW  OF   THE   WAR. 

that  bill  dropped.  With  such  a  man  judge  of  our  cir 
cuit,  I  would  not  risk  a  cent  in  investment." 

Maurice  complied  without  a  word.  His  heart  was 
heavy,  and  he  felt  the  sorrows  of  his  State  as  though 
they  were  his  own.  The  two  left  the  Capitol  in  silence, 
and  that  evening  they  took  the  train  for  Carrollton. 
They  knew  that  the  telegraph  had  quickly  told  the 
tale,  and  Maurice  could  almost  picture  the  startled 
faces  of  the  commercial  men  of  the  city,  aghast  at  this 
long-threatened  affront. 

People  who  enjoy  a  good  government,  protecting 
all  classes  and  extending  its  influence  throughout  all 
domains,  who  possess  a  spotless  judiciary,  which  laughs 
at  violence,  which  can  neither  be  cajoled  by  personal 
influence  nor  corrupted  by  gold ;  that  people,  secure 
in  the  stability  of  their  social  safeguards,  can  little 
realize  the  dangers  which  menace  others  who  may  be 
under  the  dominion  of  a  wicked  and  unscrupulous 
judge.  Tyranny  may  exist  among  the  executives  ;  the 
legislators  may  be  imbeciles  and  rogues  ;  yet  there  is  a 
rift  of  hope  in  the  clouds  if  the  people  can  depend 
upon  the  bench.  An  upright  and  fearless  judge  is  in 
himself  a  bulwark  of  popular  liberty.  He  may  be 
silenced  for  a  time  ;  his  actr  e  usefulness  may  be  dimin 
ished,  but  so  long  as  he  holds  office,  tyranny  loses  its 
completeness,  and  long-lived  anarchy  is  impossible. 
But  when  the  executive  is  weak,  and  the  legislative 
and  judicial  departments  are  alike  steeped  in  crime, 
civilization  sinks  in  despair  and  liberty  flies  the  land. 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

SOME    POLITICAL  REFLECTIONS. 

IT  has  always  been  a  source  of  considerable  surprise 
to  Northern  thinkers,  that  the  Southern  leaders, 
and  the  South  generally,  failed  to  understand  that  the 
negro  race,  emancipated  from  slavery,  could  not  re 
main  a  neutral  body,  a  political  nonentity,  and  thus 
without  means  of  protecting  themselves  and  their 
newly  acquired  rights  from  aggression.  The  only  sure 
protection  was  enfranchisement.  The  Northern  politi 
cal  philosopher  considered  the  negro's  investiture  with 
the  right  of  suffrage  as  but  the  logical  consequence  of 
his  emancipation  ;  and  he  was  amazed  that  the  South 
ern  whites  did  not  yield  at  once  to  the  inevitable,  and 
by  winning  the  favor  and  confidence  of  the  freedmen, 
become  their  political  leaders.  It  is  often  asserted  that 
if  such  a  course  had  been  pursued  by  the  Southern 
people,  they  would  have  been  spared  all  the  horrors  of 
a  Radical  government,  and  would  also  have  removed 
from  the  Northern  mind  the  impression  that  the  South 
was  still  actuated  by  an  open  hostility  to  the  realization 
of  Northern  victory.  The  conclusions  of  these  distant 
philosophers  were  no  doubt  consistent  with  pure  rea 
son,  unbiased  by  prejudice,  passion,  and  other  human 
weaknesses.  But  viewed  in  the  sunlight  of  personal 
experience,  their  arguments  contained  a  demand  upon 
the  attributes  of  divinity.  At  the  close  of  the  war,  and 

(183) 


184  THE   SHADOW  OF    THE   WAR. 

for  many  years  afterwards,  there  was  no  influential 
class  among  the  native  whites,  outside  of  the  old 
Aristocracy,  strong  enough  to  form  and  carry  out  a 
policy.  Being  accustomed  for  generations  to  the  des 
potic  rule  of  this  Aristocracy,  the  other  classes  of  the 
Southern  population  were  incapable  of  acting  for  them 
selves.  They  depended  upon  the  old  families  to  shape 
a  policy,  and  they  quietly  followed  their  lead.  In  this 
state  of  affairs,  it  was  unreasonable  to  expect  the  South 
to  become  immediately  reconciled  to  so  great  a  change  ; 
the  interests  of  the  masses  being  seemingly  identical 
with  those  of  the  Aristocracy.  A  stroke  of  the  pen,  a 
governmental  mandate,  can  not  cause  a  whole  people  to 
discard  their  sentiments  and  prejudices,  disown  the 
political  doctrines  they  have  ever  before  maintained, 
and  elevate  to  an  equality  with  themselves  a  race  re 
garded  for  generations  as  inferior.  It  was  not  only 
when  the  struggle  had  ended  that  such  results  were 
presented  to  the  South  for  acceptance,  and  that  her 
land  was  desolated  and  her  people  beggared;  but  when 
it  was  remembered  that  although  slavery  was  the  occa 
sion,  yet  the  doctrine  of  State  Sovereignty  was  the  real 
cause  of  the  war,  the  demand  upon  the  South  for  a 
complete  and  immediate  reconcilement  appears  all  the 
more  unreasonable.  While  the  Northern,  or  Republi 
can,  view  of  this  great  constitutional  issue  is  sustained 
by  practical  reasoning,  the  question  was  one  not  alto 
gether  free  from  doubt,  and,  indeed,  was  peculiarly 
adapted  to  create  honest  differences  of  opinion.  It  is 
therefore  not  surprising  that  the  Southern  ruling  classes, 
losing  so  heavily,  and  believing  themselves  in  the  right, 
opposed  Reconstruction,  and  were  urged  on  by  some 


SOME  POLITICAL  REFLECTIONS.  185 

vague  hope  that  the  changes  would  not  be  so  radical 
as  threatened. 

With  this  opposition  to  encounter  from  the  South 
ern  whites,  and  recognizing  the  negro's  incapacity  to 
care  for  himself,  Reconstruction  seemed  to  the  North 
the  only  safe  means  of  rendering  its  victory  permanent. 
But  if  the  authors  of  that  measure  could  have  foreseen 
the  horrors  and  crimes  which  the  establishment  of  a 
Radical  government  entailed — evils  that  might  be  com 
pared  with  the  proconsul  rule  of  the  Roman  provinces 
— they  would  surely  have  shrunk  from  its  con 
templation.  Reconstruction  has,  indeed,  succeeded  in 
changing  Southern  sentiment  to  a  material  degree,  and 
some  severe  means  were  necessary  to  effect  it ;  but  it 
has  been  attained  at  a  cost  that  only  those  who  have 
tasted  the  bitterness  of  those  years  can  ever  rightly 
estimate. 

It  naturally  followed,  when  the  native  whites  haugh 
tily  disdained  to  cooperate  in  the  work  of  Reconstruc 
tion,  that  the  blacks,  unable  to  lead  themselves,  became 
the  pliant  tools  of  as  unscrupulous  a  body  of  men  as 
ever  banded  together  for  purposes  of  plunder.  The 
white  element  of  the  Southern  Republican  party  was 
composed  of  all  sorts  and  conditions  of  men.  Some 
were  educated  and  refined  ;  but  the  vast  majority  were 
the  lowest  dregs  of  Northern  society,  not  a  few  having 
been  camp  followers  of  the  great  armies  of  the  North. 
They  settled  in  various  parts  of  the  South,  many  of 
them  intending  at  first  to  pursue  legitimate  vocations, 
but  finding  that  politics  offered  opportunities  for 
speedily  amassing  a  fortune,  they  one  by  one  found 
their  way  into  the  forum.  The  Republican  party  im 
mediately  gained  control,  and  soon  became  an  irresist- 


186  THE   SHADOW  OF   THE   WAR. 

tble  power.  In  the  particular  State  of  which  we  write, 
its  course  was  marked  by  a  succession  of  frauds,  em 
bezzlements,  lawlessness  and  debauchery,  each  year 
the  situation  becoming  more  desperate,  and  the  char 
acter  of  the  leaders  more  despicable.  When  they  as 
sumed  control  of  the  government  the  State  debt  was 
not  more  than  $5,000,000  ;  in  five  years  afterwards  the 
bonded  debt  reached  the  enormous  sum  of  $33,000,000, 
with  a  floating  indebtedness  too  large  and  uncertain 
for  computation.  The  leaders  themselves  were  amazed 
at  the  enormity  of  the  debts  they  had  created,  and  were 
compelled,  in  order  that  their  source  of  revenue  might 
not  be  diminished,  to  repudiate  one-half  of  the  debt 
and  fund  it  at  fifty  cents  on  the  dollar.  What  became 
of  the  money  ?  Vain  question  !  There  are  no  extrav 
agant  improvements  in  public  property  to  excuse  the 
outlay;  and  although  pretense  has  been  made  that  the 
larger  part  of  the  debt  was  contracted  for  the  benefit 
of  the  negro,  he  is  still  substantially  in  the  same  con 
dition  he  occupied  in  1868.  Yet  men  who  entered  the 
State  poverty-stricken,  and  held  office  during  that  pe 
riod,  became  possessed  of  thousands  and  millions.  It 
was  one  stupendous  fraud,  from  the  gubernatorial  chair 
down  to  the  humblest  constable  or  justice  of  the  peace. 
Almost  every  office-holder  was  eager  to  make  money, 
and  few  were  scrupulous  as  to  the  means  employed. 
High  rates  of  taxation  were  imposed  on  property  as 
sessed  far  beyond  its  actual  value,  and,  not  content 
with  this  ample  revenue,  they  mortgaged  the  financial 
credit  of  posterity.  A  mad  and  reckless  life  of  extrav 
agance  was  the  order  of  the  day.  They  indulged  in 
lavish  expenditures  while  drawing  comparatively  paltry 
salaries,  and  they  openly  acknowledged  the  illegitimate 


SOME  POLITICAL  REFLECTIONS.  187 

sources  of  their  wealth.  The  leading  politicians  soon 
had  fortunes  ranging  from  one  hundred  thousand  to 
two  or  three  million  dollars.  One  of  them,  who  upon 
his  arrival  in  the  State  was  actually  destitute,  was  esti 
mated  five  years  later  to  be  worth  three  millions.  How 
such  a  fortune  can  be  accumulated  on  an  annual  salary 
of  four  or  five  thousand  dollars,  is  a  mathematical 
problem  that  admits  of  no  easy  solution. 

The  aggressive  dishonesty  of  this  government  was 
not  its  only  evil.  It  was  inherently  weak,  and  unable 
to  enforce  its  own  laws.  The  judiciary  and  the  min 
isterial  officers  of  the  courts  were  largely  corrupt,  in 
many  instances  readily  bribed,  and  utterly  valueless  as 
a  means  of  protection  against  the  criminal  classes. 
Crimes  of  every  description  flourished.  Arson  was 
common,  burglary,  highway  robbery  and  murder  were 
becoming  familiar  occurrences,  and  women  were  con 
stantly  in  danger  from  the  base  assaults  of  negroes. 
No  protection  could  be  expected  from  the  courts. 
Crimes  of  the  deepest  dye  went  unpunished.  The 
court  officials,  being  often  no  better  than  those  who 
had  elevated  them  to  office,  sympathized  with  the  motley 
crowd,  and  by  securing  their  acquittal  when  brought 
to  trial,  abetted  them  in  their  lawlessness.  The  juries 
were  packed  with  a  crowd  of  idle  and  vicious  negroes, 
who  swarmed  around  the  court-houses,  and  earned  for 
themselves  the  title  of  professional  jurymen.  It  was 
senseless  to  expect  justice  from  such  men,  if  they  had 
any  inducement  for  the  contrary  ;  and  even  when,  as 
sometimes  happened,  a  criminal  was  convicted  for  the 
sake  of  appearances,  the  pardoning  power  was  ready 
to  prostitute  itself  in  his  behalf  if  a  political  reason 
existed  for  his  escape. 


188  THE   SHADOW  OF    THE    WAR. 

In  making  a  general  or  a  superficial  survey  of  the 
political  field,  two  principal  classes  of  Republicans 
would  be  found  :  First,  the  shrewd  and  unscrupulous 
demagogues,  of  whom  Sharpe  and  Phelps  are  fair  rep 
resentatives  ;  and  secondly,  the  ignorant  but  equally 
venal  petty  politician  like  Smalls.  A  closer  observa 
tion,  however,  would  reveal  a  third  class  of  Repub 
licans  :  men  of  integrity,  men  who  had  honestly 
striven  to  check  the  abuses  of  the  day.  They  were 
sincere  in  their  purposes  ;  and  had  they  constituted  the 
majority  of  the  Republican  leaders,  Reconstruction 
would  not  have  proven  a  failure.  These  men — among 
whom  were  quite  a  number  of  native  whites — were  able 
to  see  the  threatened  dangers  of  the  future,  and  they 
went  into  politics  with  a  fervent  desire  to  do  good.  For 
a  time  they  fought  bravely  ;  but  their  numbers  were 
too  few  to  render  their  efforts  successful.  One  distin 
guished  citizen — an  ex-governor,  who  before  the  war 
occupied  the  Speaker's  chair  of  Congress,  and  who 
entered  the  Republican  ranks,  in  the  hope  that  the  igno 
rant  black  vote  might  be  controlled  and  rendered  com 
paratively  harmless — was  sent  to  die  in  the  ice-bound 
regions  of  St.  Petersburg,  in  order  that  his  depraved 
associates  at  home  might  be  freed  from  his  restraining 
influence.  Hated  by  the  party  of  his  adoption,  and 
contemned  by  his  own  people,  who  could  not  appre 
ciate  the  motives  which  caused  him  to  affiliate  with  the 
Radicals  ;  unable  to  stem  the  tide,  yet  unwilling  to 
swim  with  it  ;  broken  in  spirit  by  the  utter  frustration 
of  all  his  hopes,  he  yielded  to  the  pressure  of  circum 
stances  and  consented  to  the  exile.  Another  promi 
nent  Republican,  the  law  partner  of  Governor  North- 
born,  after  holding  office  for  a  short  time,  was  either 


SOME  POLITICAL   REFLECTIONS.  189 

relegated  to  private  life,  or  retired  voluntarily  because 
he  saw  the  hopelessness  of  the  task  he  had  assumed. 
One  by  one  these  honest  men,  unable  to  endure  such 
fellowship,  abandoned  the  party  to  its  worst  elements. 
Governor  Northborn  was  also  considered  by  many  to 
belong  to  that  class,  although  his  record  before  election 
as  governor  was  not  altogether  free  from  suspicion. 
He  had  held  the  office  of  attorney-general  during  the 
halcyon  days  of  this  regime,  at  the  time  when  most  of 
the  frauds  against  the  State  were  perpetrated.  He 
was  on  the  board  appointed  to  superintend  the  issue 
of  State  bonds,  and  as  a  law  officer  of  the  government 
he  was  bound  to  protect  the  State  against  the  fraudu 
lent  schemes  of  his  colleagues.  A  wide  difference  of 
opinion  exists  among  the  people  as  to  his  innocence  or 
criminality  in  this  connection.  Some  maintain  that  he 
was  a  participant  in  the  frauds  ;  others  that  he  was  only 
guilty  in  failing  to  expose  them  ;  while  a  small  number 
hold  that  he  was  powerless  to  act,  bound  hand  and  foot 
by  the  shrewd  rogues  who  surrounded  him.  The 
truth  of  this  matter  has  never  come  to  light,  and  it 
will  probably  ever  remain  obscure.  Possibly  he  was 
not  altogether  blameless.  The  atmosphere  around  the 
capitol,  and  in  fact  throughout  the  State,  was  so  impreg 
nated  with  the  miasma  of  corruption,  that  only  uncom 
promising  integrity  could  resist  its  influence.  Mr. 
Northborn  may  have  been  induced  to  remain  quiet  at 
that  time,  by  his  desire  and  hope  to  gain  such  an 
ascendency  over  the  party  that  he  might  in  coming  days 
purge  it  of  its  rottenness,  and  re-establish  it  upon  an 
honest  and  respectable  basis.  The  crimes  of  the  White 
League  and  Kuklux  organizations  against  the  negroes 
made  him  distrust  the  sincerity  of  the  whites,  and  he 


190  THE   SHADOW  OF   THE    WAR. 

probably  hoped  for  some  great  change  in  the  local 
party  lines.  He  was  either  greatly  concerned  about 
the  final  issue  of  passing  events,  or  else  he  was  an  arch 
hypocrite.  While  he  was  attorney-general,  he  addressed 
the  following  letter  to  a  prominent  Democrat  of  Car- 
rollton,  which  will  throw  considerable  light  on  his 
character  : 

"  I  propose  to  lay  aside  all  partisanship,  and  simply 
to  state  facts  as  I  conceive  them  to  exist.  Let  us  look 
at  our  State  when  the  Reconstruction  acts  first  took 
effect  in  1868. 

"  A  social  revolution  had  been  accomplished  ;  an 
entire  reversal  of  the  political  relations  of  the  people 
had  occurred.  The  class  which  formerly  held  all  the 
political  power  of  the  State  were  stripped  of  all.  The 
class  which  had  formerly  been  less  than  citizens,  with 
no  political  power  or  social  position,  were  made  the 
sole  depositants  of  the  political  power  of  the  State. 
I  refer  now  to  the  practical  results,  not  to  theories.  The 
numerical  relations  of  the  two  races  here  were  such 
that  one  race,  under  the  new  laws,  held  absolute  polit 
ical  control  of  the  State. 

"  The  attitude  and  action  of  both  races,  under  these 
new  conditions,  while  not  unnatural,  was,  I  must  think, 
unwise  and  unfortunate.  One  race  stood  aloof,  and 
haughtily  refused  to  seek  the  confidence  of  the  race 
which  was  just  entering  on  its  new  powers,  while  the 
other  race  quickly  grasped  all  the  political  power  which 
the  new  order  of  things  had  placed  within  their  reach. 

"From  the  nature  of  the  case,  the  one  race  was 
devoid  of  political  experience,  of  all  or  nearly  all 
education,  and  were  dependent  mainly  for  all  these 
qualities  upon  those  who,  for  the  most  part,  chanced  to 


SOME   POLITICAL  REFLECTIONS.  191 

have  drifted  here  from  other  States,  or  who,  in  very 
rare  instances,  being  former  residents  of  the  State,  now 
allied  themselves  with  the  other  race.  No  man  of  com 
mon  prudence,  or  who  was  even  slightly  familiar  with 
the  working  of  social  forces,  could  have  then  failed  to 
see  that  the  elements  which  went  to  compose  the  now 
dominant  party  were  not  of  the  kind  which  produce 
public  virtue  and  honor,  or  which  could  very  long 
secure  public  order  and  peace. 

"  I  make  all  just  allowance  for  exceptional  cases  of 
individual  character  ;  but  I  say  that  the  result  to  be 
expected,  from  the  very  nature  of  the  situation  in 
1868,  was  that  a  scramble  for  office  would  ensue 
among  the  members  of  the  party  in  power,  which, 
again,  from  the  nature  of  the  case,  must  result  in  fill 
ing  the  offices  of  the  State,  local  and  general,  with  men 
of  no  capacity,  and  little  honesty  or  desire  to  really 
serve  the  public. 

"  The  nation  had  approved  the  Reconstruction  meas 
ures,  not  because  they  seemed  to  be  free  from  danger, 
nor  because  they  were  blind  to  the  very  grave  responsi 
bilities  of  future  evils,  but  in  the  hope  that  the  one 
race,  wearing  its  new  laurels,  and  using  its  new  powers 
with  modesty  and  forbearance,  would  gradually  remove 
the  prejudices  and  enlist  the  sympathies  and  co-opera 
tion  of  the  other  race,  until  a  fair  degree  of  homo 
geneity  should  be  reached,  and  race  lines  should  cease 
to  mark  the  limits  of  political  parties.  Three  years 
have  passed,  and  the  result  is — what  ?  Incompetency, 
dishonesty,  corruption  in  all  its  forms,  have  advanced 
their  miscreated  fronts  ;  have  put  to  flight  the  small 
remnant  that  opposed  them,  and  now  rule  the  party 
which  rules  the  State. 
N 


192  THE    SHADOW  OF    THE   WAR. 

11  You  may  imagine  the  chagrin  with  which  I  make 
this  statement.  Truth  alone  compels  it.  My  eyes  see 
it — all  my  senses  testify  to  the  sad  and  startling  fact. 
I  can  never  be  indifferent  to  anything  which  touches 
the  fair  fame  of  that  great  national  party  to  which  all 
my  deepest  convictions  attach  me,  and  I  repel  the  libel 
which  the  party  bearing  that  name  in  this  State  is  daily 
pouring  upon  us.  I  am  a  Republican  by  "habit,  con 
viction,  and  association  ;  but  my  Republicanism  is  not, 
I  trust,  composed  solely  of  equal  parts  of  ignorance 
and  rapacity.  Such  is  the  plain  statement  of  the  pres 
ent  condition  of  the  dominant  party  of  our  State." 

But  whatever  may  have  been  Mr.  Northborn's  ante 
cedents,  he  proved  a  veritable  reformer  as  Governor. 
Of  a  commanding  presence,  combined  with  great  per 
sonal  magnetism,  and  possessing  a  powerful  intellect, 
he  often  succeeded  in  forcing  to  obedience  his  unscru 
pulous  and  rebellious  followers.  Considering  the 
degraded  and  reckless  character  of  the  local  Republi 
can  leaders  generally,  he  certainly  exercised  while 
Governor  a  wonderful  influence  over  them.  In  the 
year  preceding  these  later  events  he  restrained  the 
commission  of  many  a  contemplated  swindle.  But  his 
influence,  which  had  no  doubt  been  originally  acquired 
through  his  inaction  in  regard  to  the  party  frauds,  had 
begun  to  wane.  An  active  opposition  to  these  frauds 
naturally  bred  discontent,  and  only  his  personal  mag 
netism  and  his  intimate  connection  with  the  adminis 
tration  at  Washington  prevented  the  Radical  leaders 
from  cutting  loose  from  him  altogether.  The  election 
of  Phelps  was  his  first  great  defeat. 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

A    VISIT    AND     ITS  CONSEQUENCES. 

AS  Maurice  Graham  had  anticipated,  the  news  of 
Phelps's  election  caused  the  greatest  excitement 
in  Carrollton  and  throughout  the  State.  The  people 
felt  that  a  great  public  calamity  had  fallen  upon  their 
chief  city.  It  was  the  topic  of  universal  discussion. 
Men  were  indignant,  and  expressed  themselves  without 
restraint.  Threats  were  freely  uttered  of  using  force 
to  prevent  Phelps  from  taking  his  seat  in  October.  At 
this  some  of  the  more  prudent  heads  looked  grave,  and 
answered  with  that  terrible  alternative — the  United 
States  Government.  But  the  Carrolltonians  cried  out, 
"  Give  us  educated  officers,  give  us  military  rule  if  you 
choose,  but  never  will  we  submit  to  Phelps  !  "  This 
determination  grew  stronger  each  day.  It  was  no 
evanescent  burst  of  popular  indignation  that  excited 
the  city,  but  a  revolt  in  which  all  classes  (except  the 
negroes)  were  concerned ;  and  its  earnestness  may 
have  had  no  little  influence  in  deciding  the  Executive 
action. 

Soon  after  the  adjournment  of  the  legislature 
Phelps  applied  for  his  commission.  To  the  intense 
relief  of  almost  the  whole  State,  Governor  Northborn 
answered  by  denying  the  legality  of  his  election.  In 
this  State  the  judges  are  elected  for  a  term  of  four 
years.  The  incumbent  of  the  Carrollton  circuit  had 

(193) 


194  THE   SHADOW  OF    THE   WAR. 

been  elected  to  fill  a  vacancy  when  only  one-half  the 
term  had  expired.  The  latter  half  of  this  original 
term  would  close  in  October  ;  and  it  was  to  fill  the 
vacancy  which  it  was  supposed  would  exist  at  that 
time,  that  Phelps  had  been  elected  But  the  Governor 
took  the  position  that  the  present  judge  held  office  for 
a  full  term — that  is,  for  two  years  longer.  When  this 
decision  was  delivered  the  people  hailed  it  with  the 
greatest  gratitude,  and  for  a  time  Northborn's  name 
was  mentioned  only  with  enthusiasm.  Phelps  promptly 
dissented  from  the  Governor's  views,  and  took  his  case 
to  the  Supreme  Court  of  the  State.  A  meeting  of  the 
Carrollton  bar  was  hastily  called,  and  held  with  closed 
doors  ;  the  result  was  that  a  committee  of  five  of  the 
ablest  lawyers  in  Carrollton  was  appointed,  with  Mr. 
Francis  Gravoir  as  chairman,  to  contest  Phelps's  elec 
tion  when  the  Supreme  Court  should  consider  the  case. 
There  the  matter  rested. 

Some  time  had  now  passed  since  Mr.  Gildersleeve 
paid  his  visit  to  the  legislature,  and  nothing  had  oc 
curred  to  ruffle  the  quiet  life  of  his  family.  The  first 
flush  of  spring  was  gone  ;  May  had  come,  and  towards 
noon  each  day  the  sunshine  began  to  be  a  little  warm 
in  this  southern  climate.  But  the  temperature  in 
Belleville  seldom  became  oppressive,  even  in  the 
fiery  days  of  July  and  August.  Embowered  in  the 
very  heart  of  a  dense  pine  forest,  which  covered  large 
areas  around,  the  town  was  well  shaded  from  the  over 
powering  heats  of  summer.  In  Carrollton  the  fresh 
ocean  breezes  rendered  life  tolerably  enjoyable,  except 
for  the  mosquitoes — that  plague  of  Southern  city  life 
during  half  the  year.  But  in  Belleville  these  pests  are 
never  known,  and  the  nights  are  always  deliciously 


A    VISIT  AND  ITS  CONSEQUENCES.        195 

cool.  There  are  perhaps  few  places  whose  climate 
during  the  entire  year  is  pleasanter  than  that  of  this 
pine-land  town. 

Mrs.  Gildersleeve's  greatly  improved  appearance 
bore  ample  testimony  to  the  salubrity  of  the  place. 
Her  husband  had  never  regretted  the  day  he  had 
come  South,  and  the  family,  having  grown  attached  to 
their  home,  were  quite  content  that  the  prospect  of  a 
return  northward  should  remain  indefinite. 

About  this  time  Mr.  Gildersleeve  found  that  he  was 
obliged  to  visit  Boston  on  business.  He  had  proposed 
to  his  wife  and  daughter  that  they  should  go  down  to 
Carrollton  and  stay  at  an  excellent  private  boarding- 
house  during  his  trip.  But  Mrs.  Gildersleeve  did  not 
fancy  exchanging  the  comforts  of  her  home  for  a 
boarding-house,  and  he  had  not  insisted.  Life  was  so 
quiet  and  peaceful  in  the  usually  solemn  old  town 
that  he  felt  not  the  least  apprehension  at  leaving  them 
alone.  He  had  been  gone  but  two  days  when  his  wife 
received  the  following  letter  : 

"CARROLLTON,  FRIDAY. 
"  DEAR  MRS.  GILDERSLEEVE: 

"  We  have  just  heard  that  Mr.  Gildersleeve 

has  gone  north  on  a  business  trip.  You  and  Hortense  must  feel 
lonely  in  that  big  house.  I  write  to  ask  if  you  will  not  come 
down  and  stay  with  us  during  your  husband's  absence.  You  may 
perhaps  know  from  the  papers,  that  next  week  we  are  to  have  a 
grand  military  parade,  boat  racing  on  three  days,  a  fair,  and  to 
wards  the  end  of  the  week  a  reception  at  our  house.  If  you  come, 
you  can  be  gay  or  quiet  as  you  choose,  and  it  will  please  us  all  to 
consult  your  wishes  in  this  respect.  If  I  have  not  offered  enough 
inducement,  let  the  pleasure  your  company  will  afford  us  supply 
the  rest.  Indeed,  we  shall  feel  much  disappointed  if  we  cannot 
have  you.  Colonel  Graham  insists  that  you  must  come.  He  says, 


196  THE   SHADOW  OF    THE   WAR. 

tell  Hortense  that  he  wants  a  handsome  girl  to  escort  to  the  races. 
We  will  expect  you  any  time  after  to-morrow  morning.  Colonel 
Graham  joins  me  in  best  regards. 

"  Yours  cordially, 

"JANE  GRAHAM. 
"  To  Mrs.  John  Gilder  sleeve" 

Mrs.  Gildersleeve  thought  the  proposal  exceedingly 
kind,  and  was  pleased  with  the  attention.  She  gave  the 
note  to  Hortense  to  read.  Mrs.  Gildersleeve  had  come 
to  know  very  well  this  English  woman,  who  was  now 
a  thorough  Southerner,  and  she  had  found  her  honest 
and  sincere,  devoted  to  her  family  and  her  friends. 
She  occasionally  spent  the  day  in  Carrollton  with  Mrs. 
Graham,  and  Hortense  had  been  repeatedly  invited 
there  when  any  festivities  were  to  be  held.  In  fact, 
the  Grahams  had  insisted  that  whenever  Hortense  or 
her  mother  was  in  the  city  shopping,  they  should  lunch 
with  them.  Mrs.  Graham,  a  robust  matron,  had  early 
been  attracted  to  the  delicate  little  Northern  woman, 
and  Julie,  Maurice's  sister,  was  devoted  to  Hortense. 
Mrs.  Gildersleeve  was  really  glad  of  the  opportunity 
to  give  her  daughter  some  diversion.  The  only  regret 
she  connected  with  their  country  life  was  its  quiet  and 
its  lack  of  those  things  which  most  young  women 
enjoy.  But  Hortense  always  seemed  happy  and  con 
tented  with  her -books,  her  garden,  her  horse,  and  her 
music,  varying  the  days  occasionally  by  running  down 
to  Carrollton. 

Hortense  read  the  note,  and  she,  as  well  as  her 
mother,  appreciated  the  attention  shown  them  ;  but, 
left  to  herself,  she  would  never  have  accepted  the  invi 
tation.  In  the  Grahams'  house  she  would  be  thrown 
in  daily  contact  with  Maurice  ;  and  of  late  he  had 


A    VISIT  AND  7TS  CONSEQUENCES.         197 

seemed  to  avoid  her.  True,  he  had  not  discontinued 
his  visits,  but  they  had  become  very  infrequent.  His 
whole  manner  had  changed  toward  her,  and  she  had 
quickly  detected  a  slight  lack  of  cordiality,  and  a  re 
serve  that  she  had  never  noticed  before  she  told  him 
her  secret.  Also,  she  missed  in  his  demeanor  the 
former  very  evident  desire  to  please  her  even  in  the 
merest  details  ;  and  she  easily  understood  the  air  of 
gaiety  that  he  assumed  in  her  company.  She  believed 
that  he  loved  her ;  she  had  seen  it,  in  various  ways,  too 
clearly  to  be  mistaken  ;  and  she  could  not  help  feeling 
a  little  of  the  pride  so  natural  to  her  sex,  at  the  thought 
of  her  influence  over  this  man,  whom  so  many  women 
courted.  But  it  was  here  that  Hortense  erred,  as  many 
other  women  have  done  before.  She  did  not  know 
him  as  well  as  she  imagined.  She  might  cause  him 
pain  and  sorrow ;  she  might  cast  a  shadow  over  the 
greater  portion  of  his  life  ;  but  if  Maurice  Graham 
once  saw  that  his  love  was  hopeless,  he  was  not  the 
man  to  waste  his  strength  in  useless  repining  after 
the  first  fever  of  disappointment  was  over.  Though 
he  would  probably  never  be  reconciled,  his  strong 
character  and  his  pride  could  lead  him  to  choose  but 
the  one  path.  No  matter  how  keenly  he  might  suffer 
sometimes,  the  knowledge  that  she  loved  and  was  be 
trothed  to  another  man  would  forever  keep  him  silent. 
But  she  was  not  mistaken  as  to  his  feelings  toward 
her  ;  the  coquettish  impulse  was  but  momentary  with 
her,  and  she  respected  the  man  and  his  motives 
because  they  were  lofty.  So  she  sought  neither  his 
presence  nor  his  attentions,  knowing  how  unpleasant  it 
would  be  to  both  to  meet  every  day  for  a  week  in  the 
intimate  intercourse  of  family  life. 


198  THE   SHADOW  OF    THE   WAR. 

"What  will  you  do,  mother  ?"  asked  she.  "Will 
you  accept  ? " 

"  I  suppose  we  should  do  so,  Hortense.  It  will  show 
too  little  appreciation  to  refuse,  and  you  know  they 
have  been  very  kind  to  us.  I  dare  say  the  change  will 
be  pleasant.  Suppose  we  go  down  on  Monday  morn 
ing  ? " 

Hortense  assented  without  a  word  of  objection. 
She  was  always  glad  to  please  either  of  her  parents, 
and  she  would  not  have  even  hinted  her  wishes  to  the 
contrary  if  she  thought  her  mother  desired  to  go.  The 
latter,  however,  really  had  little  wish  to  leave  her 
home,  except  for  the  fact  that  she  liked  the  Grahams. 
In  accepting  the  invitation,  she  desired  only  to  afford 
some  amusement  to  Hortense.  Each  sacrificed  her 
own  wishes  for  the  fancied  pleasure  of  the  other.  Mrs. 
Gildersleeve  wrote  an  answer,  stating  they  would 
come  down  on  Monday. 

The  two  duly  arrived  in  Carrollton.  They  were 
warmly  received  in  the  easy  manner  of  Southern  hos 
pitality,  and  were  soon  made  comfortable.  The  resi 
dence  of  the  Grahams,  built  after  a  by-gone  style  of 
architecture,  was  situated  on  one  of  the  old  aristocratic 
streets,  and  with  its  large  garden,  dense  in  shrubbery 
and  almost  surrounding  the  house,  it  made  a  pile  as 
imposing  as  a  grand  castle  of  old.  There  were  not  a 
few  such  buildings,  which  gave  an  antique  appearance 
to  the  city. 

Monday  evening  Hortense  went  with  Maurice  and 
Julie  to  the  fair.  The  next  day  she  viewed  the  parade 
of  the  Rifle  Clubs,  and  as  she  saw  Maurice  ride  by  on  a 
dark  bay  charger  alongside  his  company,  in  the  uni 
form  of  a  lieutenant  of  dragoons,  the  girl  thought  it 


A    VISIT  AND  ITS  CONSEQUENCES.         199 

no  wonder  that  the  South  had  been  able  to  wage  such 
a  war,  with  men  like  him  as  warriors  and  captains. 
Then  she  went  to  the  boat-racing,  met  a  great  many 
people,  got  very  hot  and  tired,  and  was  glad  when 
evening  drew  near.  But  she  was  interested  in  the  next 
day's  programme.  There  was  to  be  a  yachting  race  in 
the  afternoon,  and  Maurice's  boat,  the  "Ella,"  had 
been  entered  for  the  contest.  Ever  since  the  day  of 
the  shipwreck,  she  had  been  interested  in  the  sloop, 
and  it  is  quite  possible  that  the  ownership  of  the  boat 
had  something  to  do  with  her  interest.  At  any  rate, 
she  was  anxious  to  see  the  race,  and  she  hoped  that 
Maurice  would  win.  Colonel  Graham  was  to  be  one 
of  the  judges,  and  he  collected  a  party  of  young  people 
who  all  met  on  board  the  steamer  of  the  regatta  asso 
ciation.  Soon  after  they  left  the  pier  a  gun  was  fired, 
the  yachts  slipped  their  cables  and  started  out  for  sea, 
with  a  host  of  boats,  small  and  large,  in  their  wake. 
As  the  steamer  moved  down  the  harbor,  Hortense  saw 
again  those  old  battered  forts  whose  ruins  recalled  so 
many  historic  events,  and  she  shuddered  a  little  as  she 
remembered  that  dreadful  morning  off  Carrollton  Bar, 
and  thought  how  the  shipwreck  might  have  resulted. 

But  the  yachts  were  nearing  the  bar,  and  under  full 
panoply  of  white  canvas  they  presented  a  beautiful 
sight,  with  their  wings  stretched  to  the  breeze.  The 
"  Ella  "  was  third  in  position.  Hortense  perceived 
this,  with  a  feeling  of  disappointment.  Suddenly  the 
leading  yacht,  gracefully  rounding  a  buoy,  turned  and 
pointed  her  bow  straight  up  the  bay.  The  steamer 
swerved  from  the  course  and  awaited  the  boats,  now 
on  the  home-stretch.  A  few  minutes  later,  the  "  Ella  " 
turned  also,  her  topsail  was  flung  out,  and  as  the  little 


200  THE   SHADOW  OF   THE   WAR. 

boat  again  felt  the  stiff  east  wind,  which  enabled  her 
to  show  her  greatest  speed,  her  gunnels  bent  low  down 
in  the  water,  and  she  dashed  furiously  after  her  com 
petitors.  Shouts  of  encouragement  saluted  the  yachts 
as  they  came  up  to  the  steamer,  and  Hortense,  looking 
down  as  the  "  Ella  "  swept  by,  could  see  Maurice  Gra 
ham  in  his  nautical  costume  seated  at  the  wheel.  His 
earnest  countenance  was  darkened  by  that  stern  expres 
sion  which  it  always  bore  when  he  was  under  excite 
ment.  Glancing  up  for  a  moment,  he  acknowledged 
with  a  slight  bow  the  greeting  from  the  steamer's 
decks.  Then  the  "  Ella  "  carried  him  swiftly  away. 
Hortense  thought  his  face  the  most  interesting  she 
had  ever  seen.  The  steamer  turned  and  pursued  the 
flying  yachts.  Hortense  followed  the  "  Ella  "  with  her 
eyes,  and  gradually  she  saw  the  boat  creep  up  and  gain 
the  second  place.  Then  she  seemed  to  overtake 
the  first  yacht  ;  but  Hortense  could  not  tell  which 
was  ahead.  The  report  of  a  gun  soon  after 
wards  announced  that  one  of  the  yachts  had  passed 
the  line,  and  some  minutes  later  Hortense  heard  that 
the  "Ella"  had  won.  She  really  felt  happy  over  the 
victory. 

That  evening  she  happened  to  be  alone  with  Mau 
rice  for  a  few  minutes,  and  she  congratulated  him. 
How  could  one,  she  thought,  fail  to  admire  him,  who 
was  as  gentle  as  a  woman,  and  yet  possessed  of  all  the 
graces  and  strength  of  manhood  ;  who  was  so  affable, 
yet  earnest  and  thoughtful,  and  so  successful  in  all 
that  he  undertook  !  He  flushed  a  little  at  her  congrat 
ulation,  and  answered  quietly,  that  he  was  very  fond  of 
the  sport,  that  the  "  Ella  "  was  his  sweetheart.  Then 
she  was  sorry  that  she  had  said  anything,  because  she 


A    VISIT  AND  ITS  CONSEQUENCES.         201 

saw  that  her  simple  words  had  given  too  much  pleasure, 
and  sometimes  pleasure  is  mingled  with  pain. 

Next  evening  the  Grahams  held  their  reception,  and 
during  the  morning  hours  Hortense  assisted  in  the 
floral  decorations  of  the  house,  the  first  two  floors  of 
which  were  to  be  throw  open  for  the  accommodation 
of  the  guests.  On  the  second  floor  were  the  two  spa 
cious  and  richly  furnished  parlors,  whose  walls  bore 
some  old  family  portraits  and  many  choice  paintings 
brought  over  from  Europe  before  the  war.  In  front, 
these  parlors  looked  out  upon  the  garden  which  lay 
between  the  house  and  the  street,  and  on  the  opposite 
side  they  opened  through  high  arched  doorways  to  the 
center  hall,  in  which  was  the  grand  staircase  of  walnut 
leading  to  the  stories  above.  Beyond  were  the  sitting 
room,  the  billiard  saloon,  and  Colonel  Graham's  library  ; 
a  piazza  ran  around  two  sides  of  the  house,  on  the  south 
and  the  west.  The  first,  or  basement,  floor,  contained 
the  dining-room,  a  smoking-room,  a  rather  broad  cor 
ridor,  and  a  pantry.  At  the  rear  of  the  corridor,  and 
next  to  the  smoking  apartment,  was  a  room  used  by 
Maurice.  This  room  had  only  the  one  entrance  from 
the  corridor  ;  but  it  opened  upon  a  small  flagged  court 
yard,  which  was  partially  roofed  by  the  piazza,  above, 
and  was  separated  by  a  brick  fence  from  the  lane  con 
necting  the  kitchen  and  stable  yards  with  the  street. 
In  the  court  were  two  rustic  benches,  one  of  which 
was  placed  close  to  the  wall  of  the  house  and  imme 
diately  beneath  a  window. 

About  half  past  eight  in  the  evening,  the  guests 
began  to  arrive.  At  nine  the  parlors  were  well  filled, 
and  people  were  still  streaming  in.  Hortense  never 
looked  better  in  her  life.  She  was  richly  but  plainly 


202  THE   SHADOW  OF   THE   WAR. 

dressed,  in  the  manner  of  people  who  know  how  to 
dress  well  ;  and  she  and  her  mother  assisted  the  Gra 
hams  in  receiving  the  company.  A  few  of  the  people 
remained  only  for  an  exchange  of  brief  civilities  ;  but 
at  ten  o'clock  the  parlor  floor  was  still  crowded,  while 
groups  were  continually  coming  and  going  from  the 
refreshment  tables.  Under  that  roof  was  some  of  the 
best  blood  in  the  State,  even  though  much  of  it  was 
somewhat  poverty-stricken.  All  were  not  as  fortunate 
as  Colonel  Graham,  or  as  Mr.  Francis  Gravoir,  whose 
practice  yielded  him  a  good  living  ;  there  were  many 
present,  like  General  Gravoir  and  Major  Mixon,  born 
to  wealth  and  social  power,  whose  affluence  was  now 
gone.  It  is  almost  pitiful  to  watch  the  pride  that  affects 
unconcern  while  the  pain  of  want  is  gnawing  at  the 
heart,  and  the  vain  struggle  to  keep  up  appearances 
under  adversity,  which  people  of  fallen  fortunes  sel 
dom  fail  to  exhibit.  Even  though  many  may  have 
had  to  deny  themselves  actual  necessaries  in  order  to 
be  present  this  evening,  and  perhaps  some  had  not  a 
spare  dollar  in  their  pockets,  they  plastered  their 
bleeding  vanity  with  the  foolish  sophistry  that  blood, 
not  money,  creates  society,  and  they  will  not  admit 
that  the  receding  tide  leaves  them  stranded  higher  each 
day. 

Hortense  had  just  risen  from  the  piano,  where,  at 
the  request  of  several  young  men,  she  had  been  sing 
ing  a  couple  of  songs.  Chatting  for  a  few  minutes, 
she  excused  herself  and  walked  over  to  a  scfa  on 
which  Mrs.  Mixon  was  sitting.  •  Hortense  liked  this  lit 
tle  woman,  with  whom  she  had  exchanged  some  visits. 
Mrs.  Mixon  seemed  quite  devoted  to  her  husband,  but 
she  was  always  troubled  and  anxious  about  his  wel- 


A    VISIT  AND  ITS  CONSEQUENCES.          203 

fare,  and  Hortense  guessed  that  the  constant  fret  and 
worry  of  pecuniary  embarrassments  were  beginning  to 
sour  a  temper  naturally  sweet.  So  she  sympathized 
with  Mrs.  Mixon,  who  had  begun  to  look  upon  this 
Northern  girl  as  one  of  her  best  friends.  Since  his 
wife  had  conceived  a  fondness  for  her,  Major  Mixon 
had  made  it  a  point  to  be  very  gallant  toward  Hor 
tense  ;  but  she  endured  him  merely  for  appearance's 
sake.  She  did  not  like  him  ;  she  thought  him  often 
inconsiderate  of  his  already  overburdened  wife — and 
in  Hortense's  eyes  nothing  could  excuse  that  fault. 

She  had  been  talking  to  Mrs.  Mixon  only  a  few 
minutes,  when  the  Major  approached  them.  At  once 
drawing  up  a  chair,  he  sat  down  and  began  to 
monopolize  the  conversation,  as  he  usually  did.  He 
was  a  very  humorous  man  when  in  the  mood,  and  he 
possessed  a  fund  of  anecdote  and  jokes,  although 
occasionally  one  of  the  latter  would  slip  out  which  was 
not  altogether  sans  reproche.  He  began  now  to  talk  in 
a  boisterous  tone.  Hortense  was  at  first  annoyed,  as 
she  had  intended  a  quiet  chat  with  Mrs.  Mixon.  Then 
she  thought  that  perhaps  he  had  been  taking  too  much 
wine — which  was  really  the  case.  The  Major  seldom 
drank  to  excess ;  but  on  a  festive  week,  such  as  this 
had  been,  he  was  apt  to  imbibe  just  enough  to  render 
him  too  lively  to  please  a  fastidious  person  like  Hor 
tense.  One  or  two  young  men,  seeing  Mixon,  stopped 
to  listen  to  his  talk.  Another  came  up,  and  Hortense 
perceived  that  she  and  the  Major  would  soon  be  the 
center  of  a  group  in  which  he  was  addressing  his 
remarks  chiefly  to  her.  This  she  did  not  intend  should 
happen  ;  so,  as  he  finished  his  story,  she  rose  and  said 
with  a  charming  smile  : 


204  THE   SHADOW  OF   THE   WAK. 

"  Major,  I  am  so  tired  of  sitting  down,  and  I  would 
really  like  to  promenade.  Won't  you  lend  me  your 
arm  ? " 

The  Major  was  delighted.  He  sprang  instantly  to 
his  feet,  and  with  a  bow  and  a  smirk  intended  to  be 
very  gallant,  but,  in  truth,  rather  ridiculous,  he 
announced  himself  at  her  service.  Taking  his  proffered 
arm,  she  led  him  away,  glad  indeed  to  get  out  of  the 
group  which  was  beginning  to  form.  But  now  the 
trouble  was  to  rid  herself  of  him.  Thinking  that  per 
haps  she  might  divert  his  attention  to  the  supper-table, 
she  invited  him  to  go  down,  to  which  he  readily  agreed. 
But  reaching  there,  the  Major  did  not  want  anything 
except  a  glass  of  wine ;  and  then  she  was  anxious  to 
draw  him  away,  thinking  he  had  drank  enough  already. 
Finally  they  were  promenading  the  corridor.  Seeing  a 
door  open,  she  entered  with  him,  and  found  herself  in 
a  room  containing  a  desk,  a  book-case,  a  table  littered 
with  papers,  a  few  chairs,  and  some  pictures.  She  had 
never  been  in  the  room  before. 

"This  is  Maurice's  study," explained  Major  Mixon. 
"  Come  on  ;  there's  a  nice  place  outside  where  we  can 
sit  and  talk." 

She  wanted  to  return,  but  Mixon  insisted.  So  she 
followed,  more  to  please  and  keep  him  quiet  than 
otherwise.  They  entered  the  court,  and  as  soon  as 
they  were  seated  on  the  bench  beneath  the  window, 
Mixon  renewed  his  jokes.  When  at  last  he  began 
relating  a  plantation  tale,  of  how  he  had  once  punished 
some  negroes,  Hortense's  patience  was  exhausted. 
She  could  bear  him  no  more  ;  the  story  was  blood 
curdling  to  her.  Jumping  up,  she  exclaimed  : 

"  I  will  not  listen  to  such  a  horrible  thing  !  " 


A    VISIT  AND  ITS  CONSEQUENCES.         205 

Then  she  turned  and  fled  through  the  room  to  the 
corridor.  At  the  door  she  met  Maurice  and  a  man 
unknown  to  her.  The  former  hoped  that  he  was  not 
disturbing  her. 

"Oh,  no,"  she  answered;  "I  was  just  passing 
through,  and  stopped  to  glance  around." 

Maurice  explained  that  he  would  offer  to  show  her 
his  library,  but  that  he  had  some  important  business 
with  the  gentleman  accompanying  him.  Hortense 
bowed,  and  passed  down  the  corridor,  in  the  confusion 
of  the  meeting  forgetting  all  about  Mixon. 

Maurice  entered  the  room  with  his  companion. 
He  first  closed  and  locked  the  door,  and  then  said  : 

"  I  am  quite  curious,  Mr.  Wiltern,  to  know  what  can 
be  this  plan  of  yours  to  capture  that  negro  'Nezzar. 
Major  Mixon,  for  one,  would  be  delighted  to  know." 

"  That's  just  the  point,  Mr.  Graham,"  returned 
Wiltern.  "  Major  Mixon  must  not  get  the  least  inkling 
of  the  plan  ;  he  would  spoil  everything." 

Hortense  had  left  Mixon  so  abruptly  that  he  did 
not  realize  her  departure  until  she  was  gone.  His  first 
impulse  was  to  follow,  and  he  rose  from  the  bench.  At 
that  moment  he  heard  Maurice  talking  to  her,  and  he 
supposed  that  some  of  the  young  men  were  coming 
into  the  library  to  smoke.  Miss  Gildersleeve  could  go, 
he  thought ;  he  would  join  the  boys  and  have  a  good 
time. 

But  just  then  he  heard  Maurice  close  and  lock  the 
door  ;  and  the  latter's  words,  together  with  the  reply 
of  his  companion — whose  voice  he  recognized  as  that 
of  the  county  sheriff,  fell  quite  audibly  upon  his  ears. 
In  an  instant  he  realized  that  a  conversation  was  about 
to  be  held  in  which  he  would  be  deeply  interested.  He 


20(5  THE   SHADOW  OF    THE    WAR. 

never  remembered  his  obligations  as  a  guest  ;  but  with 
all  the  passion  and  savagery  of  his  nature  at  once 
aroused,  he  forgot  everything  but  his  injuries  and  his 
thirst  for  revenge.  So  he  noiselessly  laid  himself  down 
on  the  bench  with  his  head  close  to  the  window,  whose 
shutters  were  drawn  loosely  together.  If  discovered, 
he  could  pretend  to  be  asleep. 

"  We  can  not  be  overheard  here,  I  suppose  ?  "asked 
the  sheriff  ;  "  and  we  are  free  from  interruption  ?  " 

"  Perfectly  so,"  returned  Maurice.  "  The  family 
gave  me  this  room  as  a  study  because  it  is  off  by 
itself.  Outside  is  a  little  court-yard,  fenced  around." 
Maurice  walked  to  the  door  and  looked  out.  All  was 
darkness  there,  save  for  the  gleam  of  light  on  the  wall 
opposite  the  door.  Satisfied,  he  returned,  and  going 
to  the  book-case,  opened  a  drawer  and  took  out  a 
box  of  cigars.  Each  lit  one,  and  then  they  seated 
themselves  in  comfortable  chairs  near  Maurice's  desk, 
which  was  only  a  few  feet  from  the  window. 

"You  remember,"  began  the  sheriff,  "when  I  saw 
you  in  the  morning  and  made  the  appointment  for  this 
evening,  I  expressed  my  regrets  at  intruding  business 
on  your  gaieties.  It  was  impossible  for  me  to  make 
all  my  arrangements  earlier.  I  wasn't  sure  then  of  the 
plan  I  wished  to  lay  before  you,  and  if  that  plan  is  to 
be  executed,  it  is  necessary  that  I  should  explain  all  to 
you  to-night." 

"  No  excuses  are  necessary,"  answered  Maurice  ; 
"  I  am  ready  for  business  at  any  time." 

The  sheriff  continued :  "  Well,  you  remember 
about  that  trouble  last  November  up  at  Mixon's  plan 
tation  ?  You  were  there  at  the  time,  I  believe."  Mau 
rice  nodded  an  assent.  "  You  know  that  Mixon  has 


A    VISIT  AND  ITS  CONSEQUENCES.         207 

been  hunting  for  'Nezzar  ever  since.  The  poor  devil 
has  had  a  dog's  life." 

"  But  didn't  he  leave  the  State  ? "  interrupted  Mau 
rice. 

"  Not  a  bit  of  it  !  Mixon  thinks  so,  but  he  has 
never  been  out  of  the  county.  The  fellow  has  hidden 
and  lived  in  the  swamps  whenever  Mixon  was  on  the 
trail,  and  the  other  negroes  have  carefully  guarded  his 
hiding  places  and  furnished  him  regularly  with  food. 
You  know  how  devoted  they  are  to  one  of  their  num 
ber  when  he  is  under  a  cloud.  But  this  sort  of  thing 
can  not  go  on  forever.  The  man  is  tired  of  the  game, 
and  he  is  anxious  to  surrender  himself  for  trial.  But 
he  will  not  do  so  unless  he  is  satisfied  of  his  safety 
until  lodged  in  jail.  I  get  all  these  facts  from  that 
preacher,  Tomkins,  who  is  acting  as  'Nezzar's  agent. 
The  plan  I  wish  to  propose  is  that  you  should  make 
the  arrest  with  some  of  your  dragoon  company.  I 
have  seen  your  captain,  and  he  orders  the  detail  if  you 
agree."  Here  the  sheriff  handed  Maurice  a  sheet  of 
paper  confirming  his  last  words.  "  Collect  some  of 
your  men,  say  twenty,  such  as  you  can  depend  on,  to 
act  as  a  posse,  and  at  a  certain  locality  meet  'Nezzar 
and  bring  him  to  town." 

"  But  why  should  you  select  me  for  such  an  un 
pleasant  duty  ? "  queried  Maurice. 

"  Becaase,"  answered  the  sheriff,  "  for  one  reason,  I 
know  I  can  depend  on  you.  It  will  require  some  little 
address  to  effect  this  arrest.  The  bird  can  be  easily 
scared  off.  Another  reason  is  that  I  want  men  from 
your  company  for  the  posse.  They  all  have  horses, 
are  under  discipline,  and  the  affair  can  be  managed 
quietly  without  any  fuss.  Of  course,  I  can  collect  a 
O 


208  THE   SHADOW  OF   THE   WAR. 

posse  off  the  streets,  but  you  know  what  riff-raff  they 
would  be,  good  enough  as  long  as  they're  in  the  city, 
with  policemen  every  few  squares.  If  Mixon  was 
to  get  wind  of  the  affair  he  would  not  hesitate  to 
charge  down  on  such  men  with  some  of  his  dare-devil 
riders,  and  then  what  a  display  of  heels  there  would 
be  !  But  he  would  not  undertake  to  interfere  with 
you  and  the  dragoons.  Your  captain  doesn't  object 
to  the  use  of  the  men,  but  he  is  too  old  for  this  duty, 
which  naturally  falls  on  you,  the  first  lieutenant." 

For  some  moments  Maurice  did  not  reply.  He  was 
thinking  that  the  arguments  the  sheriff  had  used  were 
reasonable  enough,  and  that  it  would  be  selfish  to 
refuse.  But  to  go  on  a  nigger-hunt !  What  a  dis 
agreeable  job  ! 

"  All  this  difficulty,"  said  he,  "  which  you  have  in 
getting  an  effective  posse  comes  from  one  fact:  your 
party  restricts  the  ranks  of  the  militia  to  the  negroes, 
and  when  there  is  work  to  be  done  requiring  intelli 
gence,  nerve  and  discipline,  you  have  to  rely  on  us  and 
our  Rifle  Clubs,  whom  otherwise  you  will  not  recognize 
except  as  bloody-shirt  marauders." 

Mr.  Wiltern  said  nothing  ;  he  looked  down  and 
twirled  his  fingers.  He  was  intelligent,  and,  in  the 
main,  a  good  man  ;  but  he  was  deplorably  weak  and 
completely  under  Sharpe's  control. 

Maurice  immediately  felt  that  his  words  were 
ungenerous,  for,  although  true  and  just,  they  were  neither 
in  proper  time  nor  place.  So  he  quickly  continued: 

"But  I  beg  your  pardon.  My  thoughts  led  me 
astray  ;  I  did  not  intend  giving  you  a  political  lecture. 
I  will  accept  the  trust,  but  it  is  very  distasteful.  State 
your  final  instructions  ;  I  will  make  a  note  of  them." 


A    VISIT  AND  ITS  CONSEQUENCES.         209 

He  turned  in  the  revolving  chair  and  opened  his 
desk. 

The  sheriff  had  brightened  up  considerably.  Mau 
rice's  acquiescence  relieved  him  of  a  good  deal  of 
responsibility. 

"  I  felt  sure  you  would  see  the  matter  in  the  right 
light,"  he  said.  "  The  instructions  are  these:  Pick 
out  fifteen  or  twenty  of  your  best  men,  armed  with 
their  sabres  and  revolvers.  Order  them  to  rendezvous 
to-morrow  night  at  ten  o'clock  in  the  timber  just 

beyond  the  three-mile  house  on  the  M road. 

Your  men  must  leave  the  city  singly,  or  at  the  most  in 
couples.  Too  many  together  will  attract  attention, 
you  know.  Should  any  hint  get  out  of  what  you  are 
after,  you  might  ^gather  a  crowd  on  your  heels,  and  not 
being  able  to  control  them,  they  might  make  trouble 
for  you.  Don't  tell  the  men  about  your  plans,  but  be 
sure  to  impress  upon  them  the  necessity  of  keeping  to 
themselves  the  fact  that  there  is  to  be  a  secret  expedi 
tion.  As  I  have  said,  pick  out  only  those  men  on 
whose  discretion  you  can  rely.  My  deputy  will  accom 
pany  your  troop,  but  he  doesn't  know  the  nature  of  the 
affair,  and  will  be  completely  under  your  command. 
When  you  have  collected  your  men,  proceed  until  you 
come  to  the  second  fork,  about  two  miles  from  Mixon's 
plantation,  as  you  know.  Make  a  halt  there.  Leave 
your  troop,'  with  orders  to  keep  quiet,  and  go  on  alone, 
afoot,  for  about  a  quarter  of  a  mile  I  think,  until  you 
come  to  that  lagoon  called  Lover's  Lake.  'Nezzar  will 
meet  you  there  at  twelve  o'clock  and  deliver  himself 
up.  Take  him  back  to  your  men,  and  mount  him  on 
a  spare  horse  which  the  deputy  will  have.  You  should 
reach  the  lake  by  twelve,  and  return  to  the  city  by 


210  THE   SHADOW  OF   THE   WAR. 

three  at  least.  I  will  meet  you  at  the  jail.  Don't  take 
your  men  up  to  the  lake  ;  unless  the  negro  first  meets 
some  one  whom  he  recognizes,  their  numbers  and  arms 
would  frighten  him  away.  I  think  I  have  explained 
everything.  Is  it  all  clear  ?  " 

"  Perfectly,"  answered  Maurice.  "  If  the  negro 
keeps  the  appointment  I  will  have  him  in  the  city  by 
three  o'clock  Sunday  morning." 

"  I  will  not  detain  you  any  longer,"  said  Wiltern, 
rising.  "  I  know  you  have  other  duties  just  now." 

Maurice  rose  also,  handed  him  his  hat,  and  unlock 
ing  the  door,  the  two  went  out  into  the  corridor.  No 
sooner  were  they  gone  than  Mixon  jumped  up  from 
the  bench  and  walked  quickly  to  the  brick  wall,  which 
reached  only  to  his  chin.  Placing  his  two  hands  on 
the  top,  he  drew  himself  up  and  vaulted  lightly  over 
on  the  other  side.  Then  he  ran  rapidly  down  the  lane 
to  the  street.  Reaching  that,  he  passed  quickly  to  the 
front  entrance,  where  he  turned  into  the  garden  and 
walked  leisurely  towards  the  house.  His  movements 
had  been  made  with  such  celerity  that  he  met  Maurice 
and  the  sheriff  coming  out. 

"  Hello  !  "  he  cried  jocularly.  u  A  lawyer  and  a 
sheriff  together  !  There  must  be  trouble  brewing  for 
some  one  ! " 

''  Yes,  we  are  making  arrangements  for  a  grand 
entertainment  at  the  court-house,"  answered  Wiltern. 
*'  I  invite  you  to  be  present ;  don't  forget,  Major  !  " 
and  the  two  passed  on. 

"The  devil  take  me  if  I  forget!"  muttered  Mixon, 
between  his  set  teeth. 

Entering  the  house,  he  sought  his  wife  and  asked 


A    VISIT  AND  ITS  CONSEQUENCES.         211 

her  if  it  was  not  time  to  leave.  A  few  minutes  later, 
the  two  departed.  Next  morning  Mixon  took  the 
train  which  left  the  city  at  five  o'clock  and  arrived  in 
Belleville  before  six.  All  that  day  his  private  affairs 
engaged  his  close  attention. 


CHAPTER    XX. 

THE   EXPEDITION. 

NEXT  day,  at  breakfast,  Maurice  asked  his  father 
to  loan  him  one  of  the  family  horses  for  the 
morning. 

''Certainly,"  answered  Colonel  Graham;  "but  what 
is  the  matter  with  Satan  ?  Is  he  a  little  more  wicked 
than  usual?" 

*'  No,  he  is  as  spiteful  as  ever  ;  but  I  have  work  for 
him  later  in  the  day." 

Satan  was  Maurice's  horse.  Two  summers  previous 
he  had  made  a  business  visit  to  a  small  Kentucky 
town,  and  while  sitting  one  afternoon  on  the  hotel 
porch,  he  was  attracted  by  the  sight  of  a  man  vainly 
endeavoring  to  mount  a  large  and  splendid-looking 
bay  horse,  whose  whole  frame  quivered  with  the  ex 
citement  of  resistance.  A  negro  held  him  by  a  halter, 
and  was  doing  his  utmost  to  keep  the  animal  from 
biting  the  one  who  was  trying  to  mount.  At  times  the 
man,  adroitly  avoiding  the  horse's  kicks  as  well  as  his 
bites,  would  get  his  foot  into  the  stirrup  and  be  almost 
in  the  saddle,  when  the  vicious  animal,  suddenly 
bounding  to  one  side,  would  shake  him  violently  off. 
Maurice  was  immediately  interested.  He  went  out  to 
the  group,  and  with  the  permission  of  the  men,  he 
grasped  the  bridle  in  one  hand ;  with  the  other  he 
seized  the  horse's  under  lip  close  to  the  jaw  and  held 

(212) 


THE  EXPEDITION. 


it  tightly  with  his  utmost  strength.  The  horse  reared 
once  and  pawed  at  him  ;  but  Maurice,  actively  jump 
ing  aside,  avoided  the  hoofs,  and  retained  his  hold 
with  an  unflinching  grip  that  threatened  to  tear  the 
flesh  from  the  bone.  When  the  animal  again  landed 
on  his  four  feet,  he  was  momentarily  conquered,  and 
the  man  leaped  easily  into  the  saddle.  But  as  soon  as 
Maurice  released  him,  the  horse  gave  an  indignant 
snort ;  then  he  bucked,  and  plunged,  and  foamed,  and 
fought  the  air  with  his  hoofs,  but  all  to  no  avail ;  his 
rider  managed  to  stay  in  the  saddle.  Maurice  was 
fascinated ;  he  examined  the  animal  critically,  con 
cluded  he  was  a  magnificent  specimen,  and  offered  to 
buy  him.  That  evening  the  purchase  was  completed, 
and  the  next  day  the  horse  was  shipped  to  Carrollton. 
Ever  since  his  arrival  at  Colonel  Graham's  stable,  he 
had  been  the  terror  of  the  other  two  horses,  and  of  the 
negro  coachman,  who  would  repeatedly  say: 

"  I  nebber  did  see  no  sich  hoss  as  dat  Satan!  He'll 
kill  Mass  Maurice  some  day  sure's  a  gun,  ef  he  don't 
tek  care!" 

No  one  ever  attempted  to  ride  Satan  except 
Maurice ;  but  the  horse,  although  he  now  knew  his 
master  well,  seldom  permitted  even  him  to  indulge  in 
any  familiarity.  At  times  it  was  hard  work  for 
Maurice  to  manage  him  ;  but  with  the  aid  of  a  severe 
bit,  he  generally  succeeded  in  subduing  his  thoroughly 
rebellious  temper.  The  horse  was  also  vicious  to  an 
extreme  degree.  Many  men  would  not  dare  to  venture 
near  him  ;  but  Maurice  took  a  delight  in  bending  the 
animal's  spirit  to  his  will.  To  see  the  magnificent 
brute  under  excitement,  one  could  hardly  help  think 
ing,  that  if  he  had  lived  in  some  olden  time  and  had 


214  THE   SHADOW  OF    THE   WAR. 

borne  a  doughty  warrior  clad  in  mail,  his  savage  in 
stincts  would  have  given  him  a  keen  relish  for  a  hand- 
to-hand  combat  in  which  his  hoofs  could  have  dealt 
out  death  as  mercilessly  as  the  battle-axe  of  his 
master. 

Breakfast  over,  Maurice  mounted  one  of  his 
father's  horses  and  rode  to  his  office,  where  he  was 
busy  until  after  nine  o'clock.  Then  he  sought  the 
office  of  Messrs.  George  Graham  &  Co.,  and  had  a 
short  conversation  with  his  father.  Leaving  the  latter, 
Maurice  beckoned  Ned  Gravoir,  his  former  com 
panion  on  the  fishing  excursion,  to  follow  him  outside. 
Gravoir  was  a  cotton  classifier  in  Colonel  Graham's 
employ.  Although  he  was  not  the  intellectual  equal  of 
Maurice  Graham,  yet  the  two  were  devoted  friends. 
Edward  Gravoir  was  simply  a  whole-souled,  energetic 
young  fellow,  who  admired  Maurice  intensely;  and  the 
latter  recognized  in  him  an  abundance  of  certain 
qualities  which  produced  congeniality.  In  all  their 
out-door  sports,  hunting,  fishing,  or  boating,  the  tastes 
of  the  two  were  exactly  alike. 

As  soon  as  they  were  on  the  side-walk,  Maurice 
spoke  to  his  companion  for  a  few  minutes  in  a  low 
tone,  finally  saying: 

"  Now,  you  must  see  at  once  these  men  whose 
names  are  on  this  slip,  and  give  them  the  instructions. 
Father  knows  that  I  want  you  for  a  matter  of  import 
ance,  and,  besides,  business  is  dull  just  now.  So  you 
can  go  at  once,  and  report  to  me  at  my  office  by 
twelve  o'clock." 

Gravoir  nodded  acquiescence.  "  It's  a  very  myste 
rious  affair,  a  dead  secret,  I  suppose,"  he  ventured, 


THE  EXPEDITION.  215 

curiously.  Receiving  no  answer,  he  added,  "  but  of 
course  it  is  all  right  if  you're  in  command." 

Without  replying,  Maurice  turned,  and  mounting 
his  horse,  rode  away.  Up  to  eleven  o'clock  he  was 
very  busy  paying  visits  and  holding  confidential  inter 
views.  When  these  were  finished  he  went  home,  left 
his  horse  at  the  stable,  and  walked  down  to  his  office. 
At  twelve,  Ned  Gravoir  entered.  Maurice  looked  up 
inquiringly. 

"  R is  sick,  and  P goes  away  this  evening 

on  business.  The  other  four  I  was  ordered  to  summon 
will  be  on  hand  to-night,"  said  Gravoir. 

Maurice  took  a  list  of  names  out  of  his  pocket  and 
made  a  few  changes.  He  could  rely  on  sixteen  out  of 
the  twenty  men  summoned  for  the  night's  service  ; 
they  were  enough,  he  thought. 

Soon  after  Gravoir  had  gone,  Maurice  walked  over 
to  the  sheriff's  office  and  informed  him  that  all  his 
arrangements  had  been  effected.  He  now  only  awaited 
the  coming  of  the  night. 

The  M road  is  a  broad  thoroughfare  leading 

out  of  the  city.  On  either  side,  for  some  distance,  it  is 
lined  with  "  truck  "  farms  whereon  the  luscious  straw 
berry  and  early  vegetables  are  cultivated,  to  tempt  the 
Northern  palate  ere  the  snow  and  ice  have  melted  in 
the  colder  clime.  About  three  miles  from  the  city  on 
this  road  is  a  large  frame  house,  with  a  watering-trough 
on  the  outside  and  a  saloon  within.  Here  the  weary 
beast  slakes  his  thirst,  and  the  teamster  orders  his 
"  whiskey  straight ; "  or  the  negro,  for  a  nickel,  makes 
his  noon-day  meal  off  a  loaf  of  bread,  split  down  the 
middle  and  thickly  coated  with  molasses.  Just  beyond 


216  THE    SHADOW  OF    THE   WAR. 

this  "  Traveller's  Rest  "  is  the  piece  of  timber,  bound 
ing  both  sides  of  the  road  for  several  hundred  yards, 
which  the  sheriff  had  named  as  the  rendezvous  for  the 
posse. 

The  appointed  hour  was  almost  nigh,  but  all  was 
still  and  quiet  in  the  neighborhood.  Though  the  night 
was  fair,  and  the  newly  risen  moon  lit  up  the  road  in  a 
flood  of  rays,  the  casual  observer  would  have  noticed 
nothing  to  attract  attention.  The  barking  of  some 
farmer's  dog,  or  the  tipsy  laugh  and  song  floating  out 
upon  the  air  from  the  saloon,  the  rumbling  of  a  belated 
market  wagon,  were  common  Saturday  night  occur 
rences.  But  in  the  shadow  of  the  timber,  a  few  yards 
from  the  road,  were  a  number  of  mounted  men  quietly 
waiting  for  further  orders.  They  were  mostly  young 
men,  dressed  in  citizen's  garb  ;  but  all  were  well  armed. 
Their  orders  were  imperative  to  maintain  quiet ;  but 
evidently  they  were  a  merry  set  of  fellows,  for  occa 
sionally  the  subdued  laugh,  excited  by  some  joke  or 
witticism,  would  pass  around  and  mingle  with  the 
sabre's  jingle  as  a  restive  horse  changed  his  position. 

"  Why  can't  you  tell  about  the  job,  Gravoir  ?  Where 
are  we  going?  You  and  Graham  are  such  chums,  of 
course  he  has  told  you,"  said  one  in  the  crowd. 

"  I  am  not  a  bit  wiser  than  you,"  answered  Gravoir. 
"  I  hinted  this  morning  that  the  affair  seemed  mysteri 
ous,  but  he  only  gave  me  a  glance  which  meant  '  Mind 
your  own  business  ! '  ' 

"  I  wonder  if  some  political  scheme  is  on  hand  ? " 
queried  another. 

"Are  the  niggers  rising  anywhere  ?  " 

"  Well,  whatever  it  is,  if  anything  goes  wrong,  the 


THE  EXPEDITION. 


Rifle  Clubs  are  sure  to  be  blamed,  as  usual,"  remarked 
the  philosopher  of  the  company. 

"Oh,  if  Graham  is  in  charge  you  may  be  sure  the 
thing  is  regular.  He  is  such  a  devilish  prudent,  legal- 
minded  fellow,  I'd  follow  him  anywhere." 

"  Here  he  comes  now,  on  that  infernal  horse  of  his," 
cried  one  on  the  edge  of  the  group,  as  he  saw  two 
horsemen  cantering  rapidly  up  the  road.  A  minute  or 
so  later,  Maurice,  accompanied  by  the  deputy-sheriff, 
rode  into  the  timber,  on  Satan,  whose  first  act  when 
reined  up  was  to  salute  the  nearest  horse  with  a  kick. 
The  rider  of  this  assaulted  animal  cried  out  in  alarm  : 

"  For  heaven's  sake,  Graham  !  look  after  your 
horse  !  " 

"  How  can  he  ride  such  a  beast  !  "  muttered  Gra- 
voir,  hastily  jerking  back  his  steed,  as  Satan's 
heels  were  now  turned  in  his  direction  Satan  was 
evidently  quite  playful  to-night,  for  missing  aim  in  his 
first  attempt,  he  began  cavorting  about  and  seeking 
new  opportunities  for  kicking.  Very  soon  the  Lieu 
tenant  was  left  alone  in  the  center  of  a  circle  with  the 
men  on  the  outside.  Maurice  chuckled,  and  leaning 
over  the  pommel  he  patted  his  fretting  horse,  ostensi 
bly  to  soothe  him,  but  in  reality  because  he  was  de 
lighted.  The  men  whom  he  commanded  were  mili 
tia  only  in  form.  They  received  no  legal  recognition 
as  such,  and  were  under  no  obligations  except  those  of 
individual  agreement.  Besides,  they  were  all  the  social 
equals  of  their  officers  ;  two  facts  which  often  threat 
ened  to  conflict  sadly  with  discipline.  Few  young 
men,  without  military  prestige,  could  maintain  author 
ity  in  such  an  organization  and  yet  avoid  giving  of 
fence.  Maurice  Graham  had  no  such  prestige  ;  still, 


218  THE    SHADOW  OF    THE   WAR. 

he  was  not  only  one  of  the  most  efficient,  but  also  one 
of  the  most  popular,  young  officers  of  the  Carrollton 
Rifle  Clubs ;  and  Satan  contributed  not  a  little  to  his 
success.  If  he  had  ridden  a  quiet  and  amiable  horse, 
the  men  would  have  pressed  around  him  in  easy  fellow 
ship,  with  numerous  questions.  But  Satan  had  quickly 
asserted  his  presence,  and,  as  usual,  had  made  that 
presence  so  very  disagreeable,  that  all  the  troopers, 
thoroughly  disgusted,  quickly  retired  to  a  respectful 
distance.  Whether  on  a  march  or  at  a  drill,  Satan's 
heels  and  teeth  always  preserved  his  master's  dignity 
from  undue  familiarity. 

"  Good-evening,  gentlemen,"  said  Maurice,  as  soon 
as  he  had  quieted  his  horse.  "  You  must  excuse  my 
horse's  bad  manners ;  nothing  will  ever  conquer  his 

unbearable  viciousness How  many  men 

are  here,  orderly  ? " 

"  Sixteen,"  answered  Gravior 

"  Attention  !  "  cried  Graham.  "  This  squad  has  been 
ordered  on  duty,  to  act  as  a  sheriffs  posse  to  effect  an 
arrest.  The  deputy  sheriff  will  accompany  us.  Any 
one  who  does  not  wish  to  go  can  return  at  once.  Fall 
in  by  twos  ;  no  noise  !  " 

The  men  obeyed  without  a  word,  and  Maurice 
placed  himself  at  the  head  of  the  column,  taking  care, 
however,  to  keep  Satan's  heels  beyond  temptation. 
The  squad  passed  out  of  the  timber  and  moved  up  the 
road  at  an  easy  gallop,  with  the  deputy  in  the  rear 
leading  a  spare  horse. 

For  about  an  hour  and  a  half  the  troop  pressed 
steadily  forward,  at  times  the  galloping  being  changed 
to  a  walk  ;  but  the  horses  were  not  allowed  to  lose 
much  time.  Occasionally  the  road  led  through  culti- 


THE   EXPEDITION.  219 

vated  lands  ;  but  more  frequently  the  forest  and  jungle 
were  so  thick  on  either  side  and  overhead  as  to  com 
pletely  obscure  the  light  of  the  moon.  In  a  turn  of 
the  road  they  passed  a  negro  who  stood  with  gaping 
mouth  at  sight  of  so  many  armed  men  at  this  time  of  the 
night.  Maurice  wished  that  the  work  was  done,  for 
his  task  grew  more  disagreeable  with  each  mile  he  left 
behind.  Once  or  twice  the  monotonous  hooting  of  an 
Owl  sounded  close  upon  their  ears  ;  and  some  of  the 
men  laughingly  joked  about  the  negro  superstition  that 
the  cry  of  an  owl  portends  death.  Maurice  was  far 
from  being  a  superstitious  man,  but  somehow  the  mer 
riment  of  his  comrades  grated  harshly  upon  him  to 
night,  and  he  had  an  uneasy  feeling,  unaccountable, 
and  yet  he  could  not  shake  it  off.  It  was  almost  with 
sensations  of  relief  that  he  perceived  the  march  draw 
ing  to  an  end  ;  and  presently,  on  reaching  the  fork,  the 
men  were  halted.  Here  a  narrow  wagon  track,  seldom 
used,  branched  off  to  the  left  and  ran  along  the  banks 
of  a  small  creek  for  over  a  quarter  of  a  mile  until  it 
met  the  lagoon  called  Lover's  Lake.  Winding  around 
this  small  body  of  water,  it  continued  on  through  a 
swamp  and  connected  with  another  road  along  the 
river  side.  The  men  having  been  drawn  up  in  line, 
Maurice  explained  clearly  but  briefly  the  object  of  the 
expedition.  During  his  absence  they  were  to  maintain 
perfect  order  ;  if  he  needed  assistance,  a  pistol-shot 
would  summon  them  at  once.  Dismounting,  he  tied 
Satan  securely  to  a  tree,  and  taking  from  one  of  the 
holsters  a  heavy  Colt's  revolver,  started  on  his  errand. 


CHAPTER  XXI. 

THE  PUNISHMENT. 

MAURICE  walked  rapidly,  for  it  was  now  near 
midnight,  the  time  at  which  he  was  to  meet 
the  negro.  A  person  not  familiar  with  this  road  would 
find  much  difficulty  in  following  its  course  at  such  an 
hour  ;  the  trees  around,  with  their  undergrowth  of 
bushes  and  matting  of  vines,  are  so  thick  that  the 
light  of  the  moon  scarcely  penetrates  the  darkness. 
After  leaving  the  main  road,  Maurice  could  hardly  see 
a  few  feet  ahead.  But  he  had  often  hunted  over  this 
same  region  ;  the  hounds  frequently  ran  a  fox  into 
this  swamp,  and  it  was  one  of  the  best  drives  in  the 
country  to  start  a  deer  in  ;  so,  groping  along/  he  felt 
no  hesitation  about  finding  the  way.  All  was  still,  save 
for  the  insectile  murmur  of  a  great  forest,  or  the 
crackling  of  twigs  as  they  were  crushed  beneath  his 
tread.  Once  he  stumbled  over  a  root,  but  he  rose 
without  injury.  At  another  time,  in  a  bend,  he  missed 
the  track  and  became  entangled  among  some  bushes. 
Retracing  his  steps,  he  found  the  road  again,  and  then 
proceeded  more  cautiously.  'Nezzar,  thought  he,  could 
not  have  chosen  a  safer  retreat. 

Suddenly  the  light  of  the  moon  broke  out  full  upon 
him,  and  he  found  himself  in  a  small  open  space  beside 
a  sheet  of  dark,  murky  water.  This  lake,  or  rather 
pool,  had  received  its  name  from  an  old  tradition  that 

(220) 


THE  PUNISHMENT. 


two  unhappy  Indian  lovers  had  sought  in  its  repulsive 
depths  release  from  the  trammels  of  their  existence. 
A  huge  pine  tree  had  fallen  across  its  surface,  and  to 
the  nimble-footed  constituted  a  safe  bridge.  Maurice 
sat  down  on  a  stump  and  listened.  He  saw  no  one, 
heard  nothing  ;  his  watch-hand  pointed  to  ten  minutes 
of  twelve,  and  he  was  about  concluding  that  he  would 
have  to  wait  patiently  for  a  time,  when  suddenly  he 
was  startled  by  a  voice  exclaiming  : 

"  Who's  dat  ?  Who's  you,  white  man  ?  Is  yer  Massa 
Graham?" 

"  Yes,  I  am  Mr.  Graham.  Is  that  you,  'Nezzar  ? 
Where  are  you  ?  " 

"  Nebber  yer  min',  white  man,  who  I  am,  or  where 
I's  yar.  Stan'  up  an'  lemme  see  yer." 

Maurice  complied,  and  stood  out  in  the  bright  moon 
light.  A  moment  or  two  after,  as  if  satisfied  with  his 
scrutiny,  'Nezzar  emerged  from  the  bushes. 

"  I  am  glad  to  see  you  are  on  time.  Are  you  ready 
to  go  to  Carrollton,  'Nezzar  ?  " 

"  Yes,  I  is,"  answered  the  negro.  "  But  Massa  Gra 
ham,  de  Major  dunno  nuffin  'bout  dis  chile,  do  he?  " 

"  Nothing  at  all,"  was  the  innocent  reply. 

"  An'  is  yer  got  dem  'coon  men  ob  yourn  ready  ?  " 

"  Yes,  the  dragoons  are  waiting  for  us  at  the  fork  of 
the  road.  Come  on  ;  keep  close  behind." 

The  two  started,  and  entered  the  dark  road.  The 
bend,  where  he  had  before  lost  his  path,  was  soon 
reached,  and  as  he  was  turning  Maurice  heard  the 
bushes  violently  thrust  aside.  Somewhat  startled,  he 
stopped,  and  the  next  instant  he  was  thrown  to  the 
ground.  He  struggled  to  rise,  but  his  sabre  had  fallen 
between  his  legs,  and  before  he  could  gain  a  footing, 


222  THE    SHADCW  OF    THE   WAR. 

the  body  of  a  man  fell  '.icavily  upon  him,  and  his  throat 
was  clutched  by  two  iron  hands.  A  moment  more,  his 
mouth  being  violently  pried  open  by  some  one  whom 
he  could  not  see,  a  Leavy  gag  of  coarse  cloth  was 
forced  in.  Maurice  gathered  himself  up  for  one  more 
desperate  effort  for  release ;  there  was  a  brief  strug 
gle,  his  assailants  forced  him  to  the  earth  again,  and  he 
had  to  realize  his  helplessness.  He  tried  to  cry  out, 
but  his  tongue  was  unable  to  do  its  work,  and  he  could 
only  utter  a  low,  inarticulate  sound.  Then  he  was 
conscious  of  a  rope  being  passed  around  his  body  ; 
some  one  lifted  him  up  ;  his  arms  were  securely  fas 
tened,  and  his  feet  were  hobbled. 

The  moment  Maurice  had  fallen,  'Nezzar  turned  to 
flee;  but  he  heard  the  click  of  a  pistol  close  to  his  face, 
and  the  cold,  pitiless  blade  of  a  knife  was  laid  across 
his  throat. 

"  If  you  say  a  word,  you're  a  dead  nigger,  'Nezzar!" 
some  one  hissed  in  his  ear.  The  negro  moved  not  a 
step,  nor  uttered  a  word  ;  and  completely  bewildered, 
he  submitted  to  the  fastenings  which  were  passed 
around  his  body.  Maurice  was  conscious  of  the  pres 
ence  of  a  number  of  men,  but  he  heard  no  voices.  He 
felt  them  loosen  his  sabre-belt,  and  take  his  pistol  from 
his  coat  pocket.  Then  they  led  him  and  his  late  pris 
oner  back  until  the  lake  was  almost  reached.  But  evi 
dently  the  captors  did  not  propose  to  court  his  scrutiny 
in  the  broad  light  of  the  moon,  for  directly  one  man 
seized  him  by  an  arm  and  conducted  him  aside  among 
the  bushes.  After  a  little  he  could  hear  a  voice,  but 
not  sufficiently  to  identify  it  or  distinguish  the  words. 

After  Maurice  had  been  removed,  the  party  passed 
out  from  the  wood  into  the  open  ground.  Some  seven 


THE  PUNISHMENT.  223 

or  eight  men  surrounded  the  negro.  Each  had  on  a 
corn  sack,  drawn  over  the  head,  loosely  confined  about 
the  neck  and  waist,  with  openings  for  the  arms,  mouth 
and  eyes.  It  was  a  simple  disguise  ;  and  yet,  consid 
ering  the  times  and  surroundings,  it  was  a  most  effect 
ive  one.  A  very  large  man  stood  beside  the  negro, 
and  somehow  his  general  shape  and  bearing  resembled 
strikingly  those  of  Major  Mixon. 

"  What  is  your  name  ? "  asked  this  Tall  Figure, 
turning  upon  'Nezzar. 

The  voice  was  most  unnatural.  Thick,  muffled,  and 
gutteral,  the  words  seemed  to  come  with  great  diffi 
culty,  and  some  of  them  were  badly  articulated.  The 
negro  did  not  seem  to  understand,  and  the  question 
was  repeated  slowly. 

"  Fur  de  lub  o'  God  !  whoeber  yer  is,  boss,  hab 
mussy  on  dis  nigger,"  moaned  the  unhappy  'Nezzar. 

"Answer  my  question!"  was  sternly  answered; 
"  what  is  your  name  ?  " 

The  negro  did  not  reply  ;  he  only  whined  the  more, 
and  would  have  fallen  to  the  ground  but  for  the  sup 
port  of  two  men  behind  him. 

"  Is  your  name  'Nezzar  ? "  demanded  the  Tall  Fig 
ure  savagely,  clutching  the  negro  by  the  throat  and 
drawing  a  pistol. 

"Yes,  boss  !  yes  !  dat's  it !  My  name  is  'Nezzar  !  " 
was  his  hurried  reply,  as  he  felt  the  cold  muzzle  touch 
his  forehead  ;  then  his  knees  gave  way  and  he  dropped 
to  the  ground,  only  to  be  promptly  jerked  up.  The 
Tall  Figure  made  a  sign,  and  some  of  the  men  ap 
proached. 

"  Take  a  look  at  him,  boys  ;  if  he  is  'Nezzar,  hold 
up  the  right  hand." 
P 


224  THE   SHADOW  OF    THE    WAR. 

Each  of  the  men  peered  into  the  negro's  face, 
and  then  walked  away  with  the  right  hand  uplifted. 

"  That  settles  the  question  of  identity,"  said  the 
Tall  Figure.  "  Did  you  set  fire  to  Major  Mixon's  still  ?  " 
addressing  the  negro. 

"  Boss,  I'se  gwine  ter  gib  myself  up  ter  de  sheriff 
an'  stan'  de  trial !  'Fore  God  I  is  !  Ask  Massa  Gra 
ham  !  " 

"  Yes,  to  be  acquitted  and  put  on  the  Carrollton 
police  force  !  We  will  try  you  now,  my  buck  !  Did  you 
set  fire  to  Major  Mixon's  still  ? " 

The  negro  would  not  answer.  The  pistol  was 
again  brought  into  requisition,  but  to  no  purpose.  The 
man  would  not  say  a  word  more,  perhaps  because  of 
stubbornness,  but  more  probably  because  he  was  inca 
pable  of  speaking  through  fright.  The  Tall  Figure 
beckoned  to  two  of  the  men,  who  at  once  approached. 

"No  use  fooling  any  longer,"  said  he.  "  Examine 
him  and  see  if  you  can  find  any  old  wound." 

The  men  proceeded  to  remove  portions  of  'Nezzar's 
scanty  clothing,  until,  turning  up  the  trowsers  on  the 
left  leg,  which  was  evidently  a  little  swollen  still,  an  old 
half-healed  wound,  yet  in  a  partially  festering  condi 
tion,  was  disclosed,  bound  up  in  some  dirty  rags.  Prob 
ably  Mixon's  pistol  ball  was  still  in  the  leg.  How 
could  the  man  have  lived  during  the  past  winter  ? 
Miserable  wretch  as  he  was,  would  his  past  suffering 
and  his  present  condition  incline  the  hearts  of  his  cap 
tors  to  mercy  ?  If  they  had  any  feeling  of  pity,  it  cer 
tainly  was  not  made  manifest.  Their  proceedings 
were  deliberate,  and  seemed  all  the  more  brutal  be 
cause  they  were  characterized  by  a  quiet  fixedness  of 
purpose.  One  man  stood  guard  over  'Nezzar,  who 


THE  PUNISHMENT.  225 

had  fallen  an  abject  mass  on  the  ground.  The  others 
withdrew  to  a  little  distance,  and  held  a  short  consulta 
tion  in  lowered  tones.  Presently  they  appeared  to 
come  to  a  decision  ;  two  of  the  men  approached  the 
unresisting  'Nezzar,  fastened  a  gag  in  his  mouth  and 
secured  his  arms  and  legs  more  tightly.  Another, 
bearing  a  rope,  hastily  climbed  a  tree  and  made  it  fast 
to  a  bough.  A  horse  was  brought  out  from  the  bushes 
and  stationed  beneath  the  hanging  rope.  'Nezzar  was 
lifted  up  on  the  animal,  and  the  noose  was  adjusted 
about  his  neck.  The  negro  shivered  perceptibly  as  he 
felt  the  cruel  embrace.  Two  men  half  raised,  half 
pushed  him,  until  he  was  nearly  erect,  and  the  rope 
was  drawn  almost  taut  by  the  one  above.  'Nezzar's 
whole  body  shook,  his  feet  slipped  twice,  and  he  would 
have  fallen  from  the  horse's  haunches  except  for  the 
support  on  either  side. 

"  Ready  !  "  cried  the  Tall  Figure.  "  One,  two, 
three  !  "  Advancing  as  he  uttered  each  word,  he  gave 
the  horse  a  sharp  blow  from  a  hickory  switch.  With 
a  snort  the  animal  sprang  forward,  and  'Nezzar  dropped 
heavily,  almost  touching  the  ground.  Then  the  limb, 
rebounding,  jerked  him  high  in  the  air.  When  he  fell 
again  his  legs  twitched  and  were  drawn  up  several 
times  convulsively.  With  this  last  spasm,  all  was  over. 
The  man  had  paid  for  his  crime  in  full. 

"Come,  boys,  we  have  no  time  to  lose,"  said  the 
Tall  Figure,  brusquely  interrupting  the  solemn 
quiet  of  the  moment.  "  One  of  you  go  ahead  and 
release  the  picket  down  the  road.  Order  him  to  make 
tracks  lively.  Get  your  horses  and  scatter  as  soon  as 
possible;  that  deputy  sheriff  may  raise  hell  to-night. 


THE   SHADOW  OF    THE   WAR. 


Make  a  bee-line  for  your  homes.  I  will  detain  Gra 
ham  only  a  few  minutes,  so  you  had  better  be  spry." 

By  this  time  the  men  were  disappearing,  and  soon 
they  were  all  gone.  The  Tall  Figure  stood  alone,  and 
gazed  for  a  few  moments  upon  'Nezzar's  dead  body 
hanging  from  the  tree.  The  sight  must  have  been  a 
pleasant  one,  for  he  uttered  a  low  complacent  chuckle. 
But  he  did  not  linger  long  ;  turning,  he  picked  up 
Maurice's  sabre  and  pistol  from  the  ground  and  entered 
the  bushes.  A  few  steps  brought  him  to  the  captive 
and  his  guard.  This  man  was  dismissed  with  some 
whispered  words,  and  Maurice  was  alone  with  the  Tall 
Figure,  whose  outlines  he  could  barely  see.  The  light 
from  the  moon  in  this  forest  was  scarcely  enough  to 
enable  one  to  distinguish  the  presence  of  another. 

"  Lieutenant  Graham,"  said  the  Tall  Figure,  "  I  am 
sorry  that  we  were  obliged  to  handle  you  so  roughly, 
but  we  knew  that  a  pistol  in  your  face  would  not  keep 
you  still.  We  have  done  you  no  harm,  and  we  mean 
you  none;  but  we  have  hung  the  nigger.  He  is  dead 
as  a  barn  door.  Come,  I  will  take  you  back  to  your 
dragoons." 

Maurice  was  almost  dazed  by  these  occurrences. 
The  gag  was  still  in  his  mouth,  and  he  could  not  have 
spoken  if  he  had  wished.  He  at  once  perceived  that 
the  voice  addressing  him  was  disguised  in  some  way, 
for  it  belonged  to  no  man  he  had  ever  known,  nor  was 
it  natural.  His  feet  having  been  released,  Maurice 
yielded  himself,  and  the  two  walked  through  the  wood, 
pushing  the  bushes  aside.  In  the  darkness  Maurice 
could  not  tell  where  he  was  being  led,  and  they  walked 
on  for  some  time,  slowly  and  with  considerable  diffi 
culty,  until  the  Tall  Figure  stopped.  Ahead,  through 


THE  PUNISHMENT.  227 

a  break  in  the  trees,  the  moonlight  could  be  seen,  and 
then  Maurice  knew  that  they  were  near  the  main  road. 
But  the  Tall  Figure  evidently  had  no  intention  of  sub 
jecting  his  disguise  to  the  test  of  the  moonlight ;  the 
gloom  of  the  forest  was  more  congenial  than  the  gaze 
of  a  law  officer. 

"Graham,"  said  the  Tall  Figure,  again  breaking 
the  silence,  "  yonder  is  the  county  road.  You  are 
about  a  quarter  of  a  mile  above  the  fork  where  your 
troop  is  stationed.  Give  me  your  parole  that  you  will 
offer  me  no  violence,  nor  attract  the  attention  of  your 
troop  until  you  walk  down  there,  and  I  will  release  you 
and  restore  you  your  arms.  If  you  agree,  nod  your 
head,  and  I  will  take  your  word  of  honor." 

Maurice  bowed.  His  sabre  was  immediately  fast 
ened  to  the  belt,  and  the  revolver  placed  in  his  pocket. 
The  gag  was  removed,  the  bonds  about  his  arms  were 
cut,  and  Maurice  stood  a  free  man.  He  regarded  his 
companion  indignantly. 

"  Well,  sir  !  "  he  burst  forth.  "  I  don't  know  who 
you  are,  but  if  I  hadn't  given  my  word  you  would 
answer  for  this  outrage  now  !  " 

"  Pshaw,  man,  don't  lose  your  temper ;  we  have 
done  you  no  harm.  'Twas  the  nigger  we  were 
after." 

"  So  you  have  hung  that  man!  and  tied  me  like  a 
dog  !  Do  you  realize,  sir,"  exclaimed  Maurice,  now 
all  in  a  blaze  of  passion,  mingled  with  intense  mortifi 
cation,  "  that  this  is  an  outrage  on  my  personal  honor  ? 
Whoever  you  are,  I  call  you  a  dastardly  coward  !  Seek 
satisfaction  when  this  thing  blows  over,  if  you  dare  ! 
If  you  are  a  man,  and  not  a  cur,  you  will !  " 

Maurice,  hot  and  impatient  with  rage,  hardly  real- 


228  THE   SHADOW  OF   THE   WAR. 

ized  how  foolish  was  his  challenge.  He  waited  for  an 
answer,  but  none  came. 

"Then  I  am  to  suppose,"  continued  he,  "  that  your 
station  in  life  does  not  accord  you  the  title  of  gentle 
man  ?  If  I  had  not  given  you  my  word,  I  would  spit 
upon  you,  you  low  hound  !  "  The  tone  of  the  speaker, 
even  more  than  his  words,  conveyed  the  most  ineffable 
contempt. 

The  Tall  Figure  clutched  his  pistol  nervously,  and 
for  the  time  he  was  evidently  taken  by  surprise.  The 
two  stood  looking  full  at  each  other. 

"Graham,  you  are  a  fool,"  said  the  one  at  last. 
''What  you,  propose  is  simply  impossible,  as  you  will 
presently  see.  It  is  your  personal  vanity  that  is 
touched  ;  I  didn't  believe  you  would  go  on  so  wildly 
over  a  dead  nigger.  I  do  not  fear  you,  and  I  have  no 
need  to  fight  you  to  prove  my  bravery.  You  have 
insulted  me  without  cause,  and  I  am  powerless  to  resent 
your  insult."  The  Tall  Figure  turned,  and  disappeared 
in  the  bushes. 


CHAPTER    XXII. 

THE   PURSUIT. 

LEFT  alone,  Maurice  Graham  could  at  first 
scarcely  control  himself,  or  decide  what  to  do. 
He  was  astonished  and  enraged  by  the  very  audacity 
of  these  disguised  men.  His  passionate  temper, 
generally  controlled  by  a  strong  will  and  common 
sense,  had  given  way  completely  before  the  impertur 
bability  of  his  captor.  To  think  how  helpless  he  had 
been  when  those  men  had  taken  the  life  which  it  was 
his  duty  to  protect !  He  had  been  entrusted  with 
the  care  of  that  life,  and  now,  because  of  his  confi 
dence,  the  poor  wretch  was  swinging  inanimate  from  a 
tree.  And  to  think  how  skillfully  such  carefully  laid 
plans  had  been  frustrated  !  Had  there  been  any 
treachery  ?  Like  a  flash  came  another  thought : 
Would  he  be  suspected  of  perfidy  ?  Who  could  these 
men  be  who  had  so  boldly  taken  the  law  into  their  own 
hands  ?  In  the  darkness,  or  by  the  occasional  light  of 
the  moon  through  the  tree  tops,  Maurice  had  been 
able  to  recognize  no  one  ;  but  his  suspicions  naturally 
pointed  only  to  Major  Mixon  and  his  associates.  Was 
the  sheriff  the  traitor  ?  Maurice  did  not  believe 
him  so  wicked  a  man  ;  but  how  could  the  scheme 
possibly  have  been  betrayed  to  these  lynchers,  unless 
through  the  treachery  of  some  one  who  knew  its 
details  ?  And  would  not  his  business  connections  and 

(229) 


230  THE   SHADOW  OF   THE   WAR. 

familiar  acquaintance  with  Mixon  render  him,  Maurice 
Graham,  equally  liable  to  suspicion  ?  The  thought  was 
like  gall  to  him.  The  mortification  of  defeat  added 
its  sting  to  the  consciousness  of  responsibility;  and, 
shame  for  the  sorry  figure  he  should  cut  before  his 
men,  filled  him  with  bitterness.  Mechanically  he  had 
entered  the  road,  and  approached  the  troop  almost 
before  he  was  aware.  The  deputy  advanced  to  meet 
him. 

"  Where  is  your  man  ?  "  he  asked. 

"He  is  dead,"  returned  Maurice,  laconically. 

The  dragoons,  most  of  whom  had  dismounted  and 
secured  their  horses  to  the  neighboring  trees,  crowded 
around  their  officer  in  blank  amazement.  Maurice, 
collecting  his  thoughts,  sat  down  on  a  fallen  trunk  and 
proceeded  to  give  a  simple  statement  of  what  had 
happened. 

"  That  is  Major  Mixon's  work  !  "  exclaimed  the 
deputy,  when  the  story  was  ended.  "  How  could  he 
know  of  the  plan  ?  " 

"  There  lies  the  mystery,"  answered  Maurice. 

"  Lieutenant  Graham,  I  am  under  your  orders,  of 
course,"  continued  the  deputy, "  but  as  an  officer  of  this 
county,  I  insist  that  you  at  once  make  a  vigorous 
search  for  these  murderers.  The  thing  is  murder, 
nothing  less  !  This  posse  should  go  immediately  to 
Mixon's  house  ;  if  he  is  not  at  home,  he  will  have  to 
prove  where  he  was  at  the  time  of  the  outrage.  It  is 
your  duty  to  make  some  investigation."  The  deputy 
spoke  warmly. 

To  arrest  Mixon,  or  to  procure  evidence  against 
him,  would  be  an  extremely  unpleasant  task  for  Maurice 
Graham.  When  he  had  heaped  his  contumely  upon 


THE  PURSUIT.  231 


the  Tall  Figure,  he  did  not  know  whom  he  was  address 
ing,  nor  did  he  care.  Indignant  anger  had  swept  away 
his  self-control.  To  avenge  privately  the  death  of  the 
negro,  and  thus  remove  the  insult  to  himself,  would 
give  him  great  satisfaction  ;  but  even  granting  that 
Mixon  was  guilty,  the  prejudices  of  the  times  would 
render  any  active  investigation  of  the  crime  very  disa 
greeable.  Let  the  guilt  be  brought  home,  by  all 
means ;  but  Maurice  did  not  fancy  the  rdle  of  detect 
ive.  Still,  he  was  not  merely  a  private  citizen  just 
now  ;  as  a  temporary  law  officer  of  the  county,  he  had 
a  duty  to  perform,  before  which  his  personal  feelings 
must  yield.  The  words  of  the  deputy  had  brought  him 
to  a  sense  of  his  obligation.  He  ordered  the  men  to 
mount,  saying  : 

"  We  will  go  to  Mixon's  at  once." 

A  young  man  interrupted.  "  Major  Mixon  is  a 
friend  of  mine,"  said  he,  "  and  I,  for  one,  am  not  going 
to  arrest  him  because  of  a  nigger  who  only  got  what 
he  deserved." 

"  Stay  behind  then,  sir,"  answered  Maurice  promptly. 
"  Whoever  does  not  wish  to  go,  is  at  liberty  to  return 
to  the  city  at  once.  If  the  work  is  unpleasant  to  any 
one,  let  him  leave." 

All  the  men  had  mounted  except  the  mutineer ;  he 
hesitated  ;  the  influence  of  example  is  contagious,  and 
as  Maurice  leaped  on  Satan,  the  fellow  said  :  "  Well, 
I  guess  I'll  go  too,  if  the  other  boys  agree."  Then  the 
troop  went  spinning  up  the  road. 

When  Graham  was  left  alon-e  by  the  disguised  indi 
vidual,  who,  for  want  of  a  better  name,  has  been 
termed  the  Tall  Figure,  the  latter  walked  rapidly  for 
some  yards  among  the  trees  along  the  edge  of  the 


232  THE   SHADOW  OF    THE   WAR. 

road.  Stopping  at  a  safe  distance,  he  waited  until  his 
late  prisoner  went  off  towards  the  troop.  Evidently 
satisfied  on  seeing  this,  the  Figure  resumed  his  steps, 
and  in  a  few  minutes  more  was  beside  a  man  who  held 
two  horses.  Taking  something  from  his  mouth,  he 
asked  in  a  perfectly  clear  tone  : 

"  How  did  my  voice  sound,  Colton  ?  " 

"  Lovely,  Major  ;  your  own  mother  wouldn't  have 
known  it." 

"  It  was  deuced  unpleasant  keeping  these  three  big 
pebbles  in  my  mouth  and  having  them  roll  around  with 
every  word  ;  but  they  answered  the  purpose.  Graham 
can't  swear  to  the  voice  on  the  witness  stand." 

The  speaker  had  been  busy  removing  the  sack 
while  talking,  and  when,  lifting  it  from  his  shoulders 
and  head,  he  substituted  a  slouch  hat  which  had  been 
hanging  on  the  pommel  of  a  saddle,  the  light  sufficed 
to  reveal  distinctly  the  features  of  Major  Louis 
Mixon. 

"  But,  Major,"  said  Colton,  "  it  puzzles  me  how  you 
happened  to  know  that  Graham  was  to  meet  'Nezzar 
at  Lover's  Lake  to-night.  I  suppose  you  won't  tell  a 
fellow." 

"  That's  a  little  secret  I'll  keep  to  myself,"  answered 
Mixon,  laughing  with  a  relish.  "  Come,  let's  be  gone  ; 
there  is  no  depending  on  what  that  deputy  sheriff 
may  do." 

Throwing  the  sack  under  a  bush,  he  mounted  and 
rode  leisurely  out  of  the  forest,  followed  by  Colton. 
Evidently  they  were  in  no  particular  hurry.  Some 
cigars  were  produced  and  lighted.  Moving  along 
slowly,  they  chatted  as  if  in  a  very  good  humor,  and 
congratulated  themselves  on  the  adroit  execution  of 


THE  PURSUIT.  233 


their  work.  The  one  who  had  planned  it  all  clearly 
believed  that  the  secret  of  the  night's  deed  was  enclosed 
within  a  labyrinth  of  precaution  ;  he  could  not  see  the 
one  tiny  thread  leading  to  the  outer  world.  After  a 
mile  had  been  covered,  the  two  separated,  Mixon  con 
tinuing  up  the  county  road  toward  the  avenue  to  his 
house. 

Colton  had  been  gone  some  five  minutes,  when 
Mixon  heard  a  sudden  sound  close  upon  his  rear. 
Instantly  he  reined  up  his  horse  and  listened  intently. 
His  practised  ear  knew  at  once  what  the  sounds  meant. 

"  By  heavens  !  "  he  muttered,  "  they're  just  behind 
me  !  That  fool  Graham  is  bringing  those  dragoons 
right  on  my  heels  !  " 

As  he  spoke,  a  single  horseman  appeared  in  the 
turn  of  the  road,  not  fifty  yards  away.  Quite  satisfied 
with  the  one  hasty  glance  he  had  cast  backwards, 
Mixon  dug  the  spurs  into  his  horse's  flanks  and  the 
startled  animal  leaped  forward.  It  was  only  a  quarter 
of  a  mile  to  the  avenue  ;  his  house  once  gained  without 
recognition,  he  could  laugh  his  pursuers  to  scorn.  So 
he  used  his  spurs  again,  sinking  them  deeply  into  the 
flesh,  and  the  tortured  horse  answered  with  broad  swift 
strides.  It  did  not  take  him  long  to  reach  the  avenue, 
and  turning  quickly,  Mixon  flew  rapidly  along,  a  fugi 
tive  from  justice  in  the  shadows  of  his  ancestral  oaks. 

The  horseman  whom  he  had  perceived  was  Maurice 
Graham;  he  rode  a  few  yards  ahead  of  the  dragoons 
— a  distance  beyond  the  other  horses  which  the  ambi 
tious  Satan  always  insisted  should  be  maintained. 
Maurice  saw  the  rider  ahead  of  him,  and  so  did  Satan, 
who  pricked  up  his  ears  immediately,  perhaps  recog 
nizing  a  rival  to  be  conquered.  At  all  events,  the 


234  THE   SHADOW  OF    THE    WAR. 

instant  that  Mixon  dashed  forward,  Satan  stretched 
out  his  neck  and  bent  his  mighty  limbs  in  hot  pursuit. 
As  he  ran,  the  horse  seemed  to  feel  the  excitement  of 
the  gait,  and  his  speed  became  more  terrific  with  every 
bound.  Momentarily,  Maurice  drew  the  bridle  to 
check  his  steed  ;  Satan  answered  with  a  rebellious 
shake  of  the  head  and  tugged  fiercely  at  the  bit.  To 
arrest  Mixon  and  fasten  this  crime  upon  him  would 
surely  relieve  Maurice  of  any  odium  ;  but  he  preferred 
that  if  possible  other  hands  should  accomplish  such 
work.  How  he  wished  he  had  refused  the  sheriff 
point  blank  !  Too  late  now  were  his  regrets.  Satan, 
deciding  the  question,  was  bearing  him  in  quick  pur 
suit,  and  consciousness  of  official  duty  restrained  him 
from  stopping  the  horse's  mad  gallop.  The  troop  was 
now  far  behind.  Maurice  knew  that  if  the  rider  ahead 
was  Mixon,  he  rode  no  horse  that  was  a  match  for 
Satan.  The  avenue  was  reached  and  entered,  and  no 
sound  was  heard  except  that  of  <the  flying  hoofs. 
Each  moment  the  distance  was  being  lessened  between 
them,  when  suddenly  Satan  stumbled  and  fell.  In 
rising,  he  stumbled  a  second  time,  before  he  could 
recover  his  balance  ;  and  when  he  again  sprang  for 
ward  pluckily  in  the  race,  the  lost  time  had  sufficed  to 
put  Mixon  considerably  in  advance.  He  had  become 
conscious  of  the  near  presence  of  only  one  pursuer  ; 
draw4ng  his  revolver  hesitatingly,  he  looked  back  just 
as  Satan  fell. 

"  No,  I  wouldn't  hurt  the  fool,"  he  muttered,  and 
the  weapon  was  restored  to  its  place,  but  the  spurs 
sank  all  the  deeper  in  the  horse's  flanks.  A  bright 
thought  came  to  him.  As  he  left  the  avenue  to  cross 
the  lawn,  he  leaned  down  and  loosened  the  saddle- 


THE  PURSUIT,  235 


girth ;  then,  bending  forward,  the  throat- lash  was 
released  with  some  difficulty.  In  an  instant  more,  he 
had  swept  up  to  the  house  and  around  to  the  basement 
in  the  rear  where  the  shadows  fell.  Violently  stopping 
his  horse  here,  Mixon  leaped  to  the  ground,  bringing 
the  saddle  in  his  fall.  As  quick  almost  as  thought,  the 
bridle  was  jerked  off  and  brought  down  heavily  across 
the  back  of  the  animal,  which  was  standing  obediently 
by.  Stung  with  pain,  it  shot  out  toward  the  road  lead 
ing  to  the  old  still,  just  as  Maurice  dashed  around  the 
house.  For  a  moment  Satan  was  puzzled,  and  checked 
his  pace  a  little  ;  but  hearing  the  flying  horse,  he  fol 
lowed  for  a  hundred  yards  before  Maurice  could  regain 
control.  The  time,  however,  was  enough  for  Mixon ; 
picking  up  the  saddle,  he  stepped  quickly  across  the 
narrow  ground-porch,  opened  a  door  noiselessly, 
entered,  and  immediately  drew  the  bolts.  Throwing 
the  riding-gear  on  the  hall  floor,  he  sprang  up  the 
stairway  to  his  room,  where  he  at  once  began  stripping 
off  some  of  his  outer  clothing,  and  as  he  lifted  the  cov 
ering  and  jumped  into  bed,  he  heard  Maurice's  voice 
calling  his  name.  A  low  triumphant  laugh  was  his 
only  reply.  Presently  the  troop  rattled  over  the  lawn  ; 
then  some  one  mounted  the  steps  and  knocked  vigor 
ously  on  the  front  door  with  a  sabre-hilt.  The  dogs 
about  the  premises  began  barking,  and  the  racket  grew 
intolerable.  Mixon  allowed  the  knocking  to  be  re 
peated  three  times  before  he  moved.  Opening  a 
window,  he  thrust  his  body  half  way  out ;  he  was  deter 
mined  that  the  men  below  should  see  him  dressed  in 
white,  in  his  night-clothes. 

"Who  the  devil  is  raising  such  a  rumpus  at  this 


236  THE    SHADOW  OF    THE    WAR. 

time  of  night  ? "  he  demanded,  in  an  assumed  tone 
of  anger.  "  What  do  you  want  ?  " 

"  We  wished  to  know  whether  you  were  at  home, 
Major,"  answered  Maurice. 

"  A  nice  time  of  night  to  pay  visits! "  growled 
Mixon,  pretending  not  to  recognize  the  voice.  "What 
are  you  doing  here,  and  who  are  you  fellows,  any 
how?" 

"  It  is  Maurice  Graham.  Come  down;  we  want  to 
speak  to  you." 

"All  right  ;  wait  till  I  put  my  clothes  on.  I  was 
sound  asleep." 

Mixon's  head  and  shoulders  were  withdrawn  into 
the  room,  but  he  did  not  hurry  himself  in  the  least, 
and  some  minutes  elapsed  before  he  appeared  on  the 
porch  where  Maurice  and  the  deputy  were  waiting. 

"  Where  have  you  been  all  night,  Major  ?  "  was  the 
rather  foolish  question  asked  him  by  the  deputy. 

"  Why,  in  bed,  of  course.  I  retired  early  because 
my  family  are  spending  the  week  at  Carrollton." 

Maurice  was  nonplussed.  Now  that  Mixon  had 
come  down,  he  did  not  know  what  to  ask  him  ;  the 
man  wasn't  going  to  admit  his  guilt,  and  there  were 
certainly  no  grounds  on  which  he  could  arrest  Mixon. 
He  had  not  recognized  the  rider  whom  Satan  pursued, 
but  that  it  was  the  man  standing  there  before  him, 
he  had  not  a  moral  doubt.  He  turned  to  the  deputy. 

"  I  don't  feel  justified  in  making  the  arrest,"  said 
he  ;  "but  you  are  free  to  act  as  you  think  proper." 

"I  suppose  we  must  await  the  inquest,"  answered 
the  much  chagrined  official. 

Mixon  here  broke  in,  and  demanded  to  know  what 
was  going  on.  Whom  did  they  want  to  arrest  ?  Were 


THE  PURSUIT.  237 


the  niggers  giving  any  trouble  ?  If  the  boys  wanted 
help,  why,  he  was  with  them,  of  course. 

Maurice  regarded  him  curiously  ;  the  man  certainly 
was  acting  very  cleverly.  Briefly  he  related  the  night's 
occurrences. 

Mixon  was  surprised,  indignant,  outraged.  "So you 
suspected  me,  eh  ?  Well,  you  found  me  in  bed,  didn't 
you,  Mr.  Sheriff  ?  Whenever  any  trouble  is  going  on 
in  this  parish,  it  is  always  Major  Mixon  !  Major  Mixon  ! 
Thank  God,  I  stayed  at  home  to-night  !  Everybody's 
sin  is  laid  at  my  door.  Coming  to  arrest  me,  eh  ?  The 
devil  you  were  !  That's  a  nice  story  to  come  and  tell 
an  honest  man  who  is  quietly  sleeping  in  his  own 
house  !  " 

Mixon  strode  the  piazza  indignantly,  stamping  his 
feet  furiously  in  his  pretended  rage.  Coming  back,  he 
exclaimed,  as  if  it  were  an  after-thought  : 

"  By !     I'm  glad  the  nigger  is  done  for  !    Yes, 

I  am  !  Hung  him,  eh  ?  Ha  !  Ha  !  That's  good  !  I 
forgive  you  your  suspicions,  boys,  for  such  news.  It's 
what  I've  been  wanting  to  hear  for  a  long  time  !  There's 
some  good  whiskey  in  the  house  ;  let's  all  take  a  drink," 
and  he  turned  to  procure  the  article. 

"Never  mind,"    said  Maurice,  stopping  him;  "we 
can't  drink  now.     There's  more  work  to  be  done  yet.  ' 

After  some  little  parley,  Maurice  rode  away  with  the 
troop.  Reaching  the  forks  again,  he  dispatched  the 
deputy  with  two  of  his  men  to  inform  the  sheriff  and 
to  summon  the  coroner.  With  the  rest  of  the  squad 
he  proceeded  to  the  scene  of  the  lynching.  A  propo 
sition  was  made  to  cut  the  body  down  ;  but  Maurice 
would  not  allow  it  to  be  touched.  The  men  kept 
guard  during  the  remainder  of  the  night,  and  in  the 


238  THE   SHADOW  OF    THE   WAR. 

morning  their  services  were  really  needed.  By  seven 
o'clock  the  negroes  on  Mixon's  plantation,  having  heard 
the  news — probably  from  the  Major — began  to  flock 
around  Lover's  Lake.  Most  of  them  were  very  much 
excited.  Some  wanted  to  take  possession  of  the  body, 
and  showed  a  disposition  to  quarrel  when  refused.  But 
the  drawn  sabres  and  cocked  revolvers  of  the  dragoons 
kept  them  quiet. 

About  eight  o'clock  the  coroner  arrived,  and  shortly 
after  came  the  sheriff.  A  jury  of  negroes  was  hastily 
impanneled,  and  the  inquest  began.  Maurice  gave  his 
testimony  of  the  actual  facts,  beginning  with  the  inter 
view  of  the  previous  night.  He  reserved  his  opinions. 
When  questioned  about  the  disguised  men,  he  answered 
that  not  a  single  fact  or  circumstance  had  disclosed  to 
him  the  identity  of  any  one  of  the  lynchers. 

Some  of  the  troop  were  examined,  as  was  the 
deputy  also.  They  testified  to  having  seen  Mixon 
appear  at  a  window  in  night-clothes  when  summoned 
by  a  knock  on  his  front  door. 

"And  he  was  deuced  hard  to  wake  up,"  said  one  of 
the  men. 

In  addition,  the  Major  had  sworn  that  he  was  in 
bed  when  he  heard  the  rapping.  He  had  forgotten  to 
tell  that  he  happened  to  have  on  his  boots  and  spurs  at 
the  time. 

The  coroner,  through  lack  of  further  testimony,  was 
obliged  to  close  the  case  and  instruct  the  jury,  who 
rendered  a  verdict  that  the  deceased  had  come  to  his 
death  by  hanging,  at  the  hands  of  persons  to  them 
unknown.  The  body  was  then  delivered  to  the  negroes, 
and  the  dragoons  were  dismissed. 

On   reaching  home,  Maurice  procured  some  food, 


THE  PURSUIT.  239 


and  retired  immediately  to  his  room.  Later,  he  had  a 
long  conversation  with  his  father.  Towards  supper- 
time  he  received  a  newspaper  reporter,  who  had  called 
twice;  but  the  family  saw  him  no  more  that  day.  He 
had  the  feeling  of  having  been  completely  outdone, 
and  he  dreaded  to  appear  before  Hortense.  That  she 
might  look  upon  him  with  contempt,  was  now  his  fear  ; 
and  he  hesitated  to  meet  the  silent  criticism  of  this 
high-minded  girl — forgetting  that  the  very  nobility  of 
her  nature  would  yield  him  the  warmest  sympathy. 
He  forgot  everything  but  the  dead  man  and  his  own 
defeat  and  mortification.  His  lively  imagination  almost 
made  him  feel  the  disdain  he  believed  she  would  have 
for  anything  like  weakness.  Could  she  respect  him, 
outwitted  as  he  had  been,  with  so  many  men  at  his  com 
mand  ?  He  was  just  now  in  no  condition  to  remem 
ber  that  wounded  vanity  can  cause  even  the  strongest 
man  to  wince  in  the  presence  of  the  woman  he  loves. 
Q 


CHAPTER    XXIII. 

A   REVELATION. 

ON  that  Sunday  night,  the  Gildersleeves  were  truly 
glad  that  their  visit  to  Carrollton  was  rapidly 
drawing  to  a  close.  Not  that  they  were  lacking  in  ap 
preciation  of  the  hospitality  of  their  hosts  ;  nor  had 
that  hospitality  suddenly  become  less  generous  and 
warm.  But  this  evening  there  was  a  sombre  gloom 
over  the  whole  household,  which  not  even  the  gallant 
raillery  of  Colonel  Graham  could  disperse.  The 
members  of  the  family  seemed  to  feel  that  a  misfortune 
had  befallen  them  all.  The  father  affected  to  view  the 
matter  philosophically ;  but  in  truth  he  perceived, 
with  no  little  bitterness,  that  his  son's  honor  could  now 
be  questioned  by  political  opponents,  and  that  really 
there  would  be  no  mode  of  refuting  their  slander  ex 
cept  that  of  dignified  indifference.  However  much 
the  sentiment  has  been  ridiculed,  the  sense  of  personal 
honor  is  strong  and  deep  in  the  best  class  of  South 
erners,  as  it  is  with  most  high-bred  people  ;  and  in  its 
application  the  Southerner  rarely  swerves  from  the 
principles  of  his  education  or  his  sectional  prejudices. 
Oftentimes  these  principles  and  prejudices  are  at  vari 
ance  with  those  of  other  sections ;  and  then  the  oppor 
tunity  arises  for  ridicule  of  the  boasted  "Southern 
honor." 

All  unconscious  of  the  previous  night's  tragedy,  the 

(240) 


A    REVELATION.  241 

Grahams  and  their  guests  had  this  morning  gone  to 
attend  religious  service.  Although  the  news  spread 
rapidly  through  the  city,  they  heard  nothing  until  they 
were  returning  home,  when  various  rumors  reached 
their  ears,  in  all  of  which  Maurice's  name  was  promi 
nent.  Hurrying  on  ahead  of  the  family,  with  much 
anxiety,  Colonel  Graham  was  soon  closeted  with  his 
son,  and  heard  the  whole  story.  When  they  assem 
bled  for  dinner,  the  altered  demeanor  of  the  family 
rendered  necessary  some  explanation  to  the  North 
erners  ;  and  after  Mrs.  Graham  had  excused  her  son's 
absence  on  the  plea  of  lack  of  sleep,  her  husband 
briefly  related  the  bare  outlines  of  the  affair.  The  Gil- 
dersleeves  perceived  at  once  that  their  hosts  did  not 
desire  to  have  the  matter  discussed  just  then,  and  they 
respected  the  pride  that  would  cloak  misfortune  with 
dignity  and  reserve.  Their  delicate  tact  diverted  the 
table-talk  into  other  channels  ;  and  they  made  no  offi 
cious  inquiries,  nor  offered  sympathy  which  would  only 
wound.  The  guests  appreciated  the  spirit  that  forbore 
to  mar  their  visit  by  a  discussion  of  family  troubles,  and 
with  a  natural  refinement  of  feeling  they  endeavored 
to  assist  their  hosts  in  the  duty  of  hospitality. 

Next  morning,  Maurice  was  at  breakfast,  as  digni 
fied  and  self-possessed  as  usual,  a  little  less  talkative 
perhaps,  but  still  very  pleasant.  Hortense  hardly  un 
derstood  what  had  happened.  She  was  as  yet  ignorant 
of  the  details  of  the  lynching,  and  she  only  knew  that 
Maurice  had  some  unfortunate  connection  with  the 
affair.  That  he  was  to  blame  in  the  least,  was  a  thought 
that  never  entered  her  mind  for  a  moment.  But  she 
did  regret  deeply  that  there  was  no  real  friendship  ex 
isting  between  them — a  fact  she  realized  keenly  this 


242  THE   SHADOW  OF   THE  WAR. 

morning.  How  glad  she  would  have  been  if  their  inti 
macy  were  such  as  to  allow  him  to  speak  freely  to  her 
of  his  trouble  !  She  looked  at  him  wistfully  across  the 
breakfast  table  ;  he  was  calmly  eating  his  rolls  and 
steak  in  a  very  material  way,  and  did  not  even  see  the 
momentary  expression.  Now,  she  thought,  he  had 
drifted  away  from  her  forever  ;  she  had  repulsed  him 
herself,  and  she  never  could  presume  to  approach  him 
with  sympathy.  They  were  far  apart  now  ;  she  had  a 
duty  to  perform,  and  he  was  too  earnest  a  man  to  trifle 
with  his  affections  ;  each  day  the  distance  would  grow 
greater.  As  she  thought  of  all  this,  and  remembered 
the  easy,  almost  joyous,  manner  he  had  once  shown 
when  with  her,  a  feeling  of  depression  came  upon  her, 
and  with  it  came  a  sudden  temptation.  Perhaps  it  was 
not  yet  too  late  to  undo  what  had  been  done.  Could 
she  not  call  him  to  her  again  ?  She  had  been  cool  and 
distant  toward  him — cruelly  so,  it  now  seemed  to  her  ; 
she  herself  had  authoritatively  placed  a  limit  to  their 
acquaintance.  All  this  might  be  changed.  She  could 
be  entertaining  and  fascinating ;  if  need  be,  she  could 
even  resort  to  various  little  arts  which  she  had  known 
other  women  to  employ  toward  men.  She  could  give 
him  to  understand  that  a  woman  was  at  liberty  to 
change  her  mind  ;  and  then,  if  he  chose  to  win  her,  if 
she  were  sure  he  was  suffering  for  her  sake  .  .  . 
Her  meditations  were  suddenly  interrupted.  He  had 
risen  from  the  table,  and  was  speaking  to  her. 

"  Good-bye,  Miss  Hortense  ;  I  fear  I  shall  not  have 
the  good  fortune  to  see  you  again  to-day.  I  suppose 
Mrs.  Gildersleeve  will  persist  in  going  to  Belleville  this 
afternoon,  if  your  father  returns  on  the  morning's 
train." 


A    REVELATION.  243 

"  But  will  you  not  join  us  at  dinner  ? "  asked  her 
mother. 

"  I  fear  not.  I  shall  be  very  busy  all  day,  and  per 
haps  had  better  say  good-bye  now." 

A  shake  of  the  hand,  and  the  farewell  was  over. 
He  was  pleasant,  but  unmistakably  reserved,  Hortense 
thought.  She  now  understood  clearly  the  great  dis 
tance  that  lay  between  them.  For  a  moment  she  was 
impelled  to  accompany  him  out  to  the  garden,  and 
exact  a  promise  of  an  early  visit.  But  with  womanly 
quickness  and  injustice,  she  intuitively  compared  his 
absolute  indifference  of  manner  with  the  sacrifice  she 
contemplated,  and  a  feeling  of  bitterness  came  into 
her  heart.  Then  he  was  gone,  and  she  was  heartily 
ashamed  of  her  temptation.  Maurice  had  been  close 
to  the  Golden  Apple  when  he  least  suspected  its  pres 
ence  ;  but  now  it  was  wafted  away  farther  than  ever 
before  on  the  ocean  of  life. 

Mr.  Gildersleeve  arrived  in  Carrollton  that  morn 
ing,  and  in  the  afternoon  the  family  returned  to  Belle 
ville.  Hortense  was  very  glad  to  be  at  home  again. 
The  visit  had  brought  her  no  pleasure,  but  only  regrets 
and  temptation.  Why  should  she  be  interested  in  his 
trouble?  Only  as  she  would  be  in  that  of  any  other 
person  who  commanded  her  respect,  she  insisted  to 
herself.  Now  that  they  were  all  once  more  at  home, 
life  would  run  on  as  smoothly  as  ever,  until  some  day 
Ernest  would  come  to  claim  her  as  his  bride.  She  was 
sorry  that  Maurice  Graham  was  in  trouble — very  sorry 
— but  certainly  she  could  not  render  any  assistance. 
Well,  she  would  get  the  newspaper  and  read  the 
account  of  that  lynching  affair.  Her  father's  return, 
and  various  other  things,  had  occupied  her  time  com- 


244  THE   SHADOW  OF   THE   WAR. 

pletely,  and  she  had  not  even  had  an  opportunity  to 
see  the  day's  paper.  So,  a  little  while  before  supper, 
she  procured  her  father's  copy,  and  with  more  interest 
than  she  would  have  admitted,  bent  eagerly  to  its 
perusal.  The  report  of  the  affair  began  with  the  state 
ment  given  by  Maurice.  He  related  in  detail  the 
interview  between  himself  and  the  sheriff,  and  how 
carefully  they  had  taken  every  possible  precaution, 
ending  with  the  story  of  the  expedition,  as  far  as  he 
had  been  a  witness.  On  the  editorial  page  Hortense 
read  the  following  : 

"Judge  Lynch  has  suddenly  appeared  in  our  county 
and  startled  the  community.  At  last  the  endurance  of 
some  of  our  people  has  given  way  under  continued 
lawlessness  and  crime,  and  the  majesty  of  the  law,  if 
such  a  thing  exists  in  our  State,  has  been  outraged. 
We  publish  in  this  issue  full  accounts  of  the  sensational 
occurrences  of  Saturday  night ;  and  while  we  little 
regret  the  fate  of  the  criminal — for  such  he  undoubt 
edly  was  —  we  must  condemn  the  action  of  the 
lynchers,  and  more  particularly  their  mode  of  opera 
tion.  We  know  that  under  our  present  government 
life  and  property  have  but  slight  protection,  and  we 
do  not  deny  that  sometimes  enough  provocation  arises 
almost  to  justify  the  terrible  remedy ;  but  these  bold 
men  should  have  remembered,  when  they  took  the  law 
into  their  own  hands,  that  they  were  placing  Lieuten 
ant  Graham  in  an  unjust  and  unfortunate  position. 
We  say  unfortunate  ;  but  it  is  only  so  as  regards  his 
and  our  political  enemies  and  strangers.  The  sym 
pathy  throughout  the  city  in  behalf  of  the  gentleman 
testifies  very  flatteringly  to  the  public  confidence  he 
commands.  Lieutenant  Graham  stands  before  the 


A    REVELATION:  245 

community  as  one  of  our  most  estimable  young  citi 
zens,  a  man  whose  position  and  record  is  without  a 
blemish.  But  of  course,  no  matter  how  pure  a  charac 
ter  may  be,  such  an  affair  furnishes  too  rich  material 
for  political  slander  to  be  permitted  to  pass  unnoticed; 
and  we  predict  a  general  howl  of  horror  on  the  part  of 
our  Republican  exchanges.  But  Mr.  Graham,  secure 
in  the  respect  and  confidence  of  his  fellow-citizens, 
can  afford  to  ignore  the  sneers  and  insinuations  of 
these  always  ready  maligners. 

"  That  there  was  a  traitor  in  the  affair,  we  have  no 
doubt.  ladeed,  that  is  the  only  hypothesis  which 
solves  the  mystery.  Who  could  this  wretch  have  been? 
Will  not  the  matter  bear  investigation  ?  No  one  ever 
knows  what  the  whirligig  of  time  may  bring  to  pass, 
and  we  would  not  be  surprised  to  hear  at  any  moment 
of  some  devilish  plot  in  which  Lieutenant  Graham  and 
his  dragoons  were  unwittingly  made  the  tools  of  un 
scrupulous  political  machinators.  It  is  well  to  bear  in 
mind  that  an  exciting  campaign  will  soon  be  upon  us. 
Verbum  sap." 

As  Hortense  read,  her  cheek  grew  pale  with  indig 
nation.  Now  for  the  first  time  she  understood  the 
feelings  of  the  Grahams.  But  how  could  that  editor 
write  so  calmly  of  the  affair?  It  was  most  outrageous! 
He,  Maurice  Graham,  whom  she  knew  to  be  one  of 
the  best  men  living, — he,  to  be  placed  in  such  a 
position  that  his  motives  and  actions  could  be  ques 
tioned  by  the  populace!  Why,  it  is  terrible,  she 
thought,  almost  gasping  with  her  emotion.  Even  to 
have  it  admitted  in  a  newspaper  that  one's  position  is 
dubious,  must  be  a  blow  to  a  man  of  his  pride.  How 
sorry  she  felt  for  him!  and  how  she  did  wish  that  she 


246  THE  SHADOW  OF   THE   WAR. 

had  accompanied  him  out  to  the  garden  in  the  morn 
ing,  as  she  might  so  easily  have  done,  and  made  him 
promise  to  come  up  and  see  her  soon.  Now  she  might 
not  meet  him  again  for  a  month,  or  even  more.  She 
wiped  away  a  little  tear  that  had  gathered  in  the 
corner  of  her  eye ;  and  turning  over  the  paper,  she 
began  reading  anew  the  story  of  the  lynching. 

Suddenly,  as  she  read,  Hortense  uttered  an  excla 
mation  of  astonishment.  She  was  reading  Maurice's 
account  of  his  interview  with  the  sheriff  in  the  study  ; 
and  instantly  she  recollected  the  events  of  that  Friday 
evening.  She  recalled  how  Major  Mixon  had  bored 
her  with  his  presence  and  his  jokes,  how  she  had  left 
him  in  the  little  courtyard,  and  on  returning  to  the 
corridor  had  met  Maurice  and  a  strange  man  coming 
into  the  library.  Could  that  have  been  the  sheriff? 
and  could  Mixon  have  overheard  their  conversation  ? 
She  was  sure  that  it  was  the  right  clue ;  and  she 
trembled  with  excitement,  as  she  thought  that  she 
might  be  the  only  person  who  could  unravel  this  dark 
mystery.  Yes,  she  was  certain  of  the  facts ;  the  time 
given  by  Maurice  of  his  interview  with  the  sheriff^ cor 
responded  exactly  with  that  at  which  she  had  left 
Mixon  in  the  courtyard ;  and  now  she  remembered 
that  when  she  met  Maurice  at  the  door  of  the  library, 
he  explained  that  he  had  some  business  with  the 
gentleman  who  was  with  him.  Afterwards,  she  thought 
it  queer  that  he  should  have  business  at  such  an  hour. 
She  was  glad  that  now  she  could  do  Maurice  Graham 
a  real  service.  As  for  Major  Mixon,  he  must  prove 
his  innocence,  she  thought,  with  compressed  lips. 
What  right  had  he  to  fasten  this  ignominy  on  Maurice 
Graham?  The  beautiful  lips  were  compressed  still 


A    REVELATION.  247 

more  tightly  with  resolution.  She  was  truly  sorry  for 
Mrs.  Mixon ;  but  that  cruel  husband  of  hers — should 
Maurice  Graham  surfer  for  his  benefit?  Never!  and 
the  lips  curled  contemptuously. 

At  supper  the  father  and  daughter  alone  appeared. 
Mrs.  Gildersleeve,  somewhat  fatigued,  had  retired  to 
her  room.  Throughout  the  first  part  of  the  meal  Hor- 
tense  was  strangely  silent,  and  thfs  was  in  such  con 
trast  to  her  usual  vivacity,  that  at  last  her  father  rallied 
her  on  the  subject. 

"  What  makes  you  so  preoccupied  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  I  have  a  secret  to  tell  you,"  she  answered.  Then 
turning  to  the  servant  who  was  attending  on  the  table, 
she  said  :  "  Pompey,  you  need  not  remain  any  longer; 
I  will  ring  if  we  want  you." 

The  man  was  considerably  surprised.  He  had 
never  yet  been  dismissed  before  the  conclusion  of  a 
meal,  and  he  did  not  relish  the  order.  The  negro 
waiter  always  listens  with  greedy  avidity  to  table-talk  ; 
indeed,  this  very  privilege  render^  l^ie  position  an 
enviable  one  in  his  eyes.  He  hears  all  the  news  and 
gossip  of  the  day,  and  he  enjoys  the  conversation  as 
much  as  his  master  does  the  morning's  paper.  Pompey 
had  enough  intelligence  to  know  that  Hortense  did  not 
wish  him  to  hear  her  conversation  just  now,  and  that 
fact  was  sufficient  to  inflame  his  curiosity.  These 
Northerners  little  knew  the  precautions  that  Southern 
ers,  from  their  long  acquaintance  with  the  negro 
character,  instinctively  adopt.  When  the  man  retired 
promptly,  Hortense  thought  that  she  was  free  to  speak. 
Pompey  had  gone  out  on  the  back  porch  and  down 
the  stairway  leading  to  the  kitchen.  But  reaching  the 
yard,  he  hastily  pulled  off  his  shoes  and  crept  lightly  up 


248  THE   SHADOW  OF    THE   WAR. 

on  the  porch  again,  where  he  stationed  himself  close  to 
the  blinds  of  one  of  the  dining-room  windows.  In  the 
darkness  he  would  escape  observation. 

"  I  am  satisfied,  father,"  Hortense  was  saying,  "  that 
Major  Mixon  must  have  overheard  the  plans  between 
Mr.  Graham  and  the  sheriff.  I  certainly  left  him  in 
the  courtyard  when  the  two  entered  the  library." 

"  Your  suspicion  is  a  strong  one,"  replied  her  father. 
"  Let  me  see:  The  Grahams  held  that  reception  on 
Friday?  Your  testimony  would  then  be  something 
like  this :  that  on  that  evening,  during  the  entertain 
ment,  you  were  in  the  court-yard  adjoining  Maurice 
Graham's  library,  with  Major  Mixon;  that  you  left  him 
alone  there,  and  so  situated  that  he  could  not  be  seen, 
when  Maurice  came  in  with  the  sheriff.  You  didn't 
tell  them  of  Mixon's  presence  there  ?" 

"  No,  I  forgot  all  about  him." 

"  That  was  unfortunate.  Yes,  the  presumption 
seems  strong,  if  the  facts  are  as  you  think  them  to  be, 
that  he  overheard  the  plan  for  the  capture  of  that 
negro  ;  at  least,  he  must  show  where  he  was  at  that 
time.  This  fact  may  explain  the  whole  mystery." 

"  But  can  not  something  be  done  ? "  anxiously 
inquired  Hortense.  "  It  is  not  just  to  allow  this  sus 
picion  of  foul  play  to  rest  on  Mr.  Graham." 

"  Of  course  not.  I  am  going  to  the  city  in  the 
morning,  and  I  will  see  Gravoir  about  the  matter." 

"  But,  father,  if  he  thinks  the  evidence  not  strong 
enough  to  be  used,  I  wish  you  would  gdt  him  to  say 
nothing  to  Mr.  Graham." 

"  Why  not  ?  " 

V  Oh,  don't  you  see  " — with  a  trifle  of  confusion,  as 
though  she  were  hunting  around  for  a  reason — "  no 


A   REVELATION.  249 

young  lady  cares  to  give  a  gentleman  the  impres 
sion  that  she  is  so  much  interested  in  him  ;  and  men 
are  vain  about  such  matters,  you  know.  Weren't  you, 
when  you  were  a  young  man  ?  " 

Her  father  glanced  at  her  suspiciously  for  a  mo 
ment,  but  her  face  was  almost  hidden  by  a  cup  of  tea 
which  she  had  just  raised  to  her  lips,  and  he  saw  noth 
ing.  Then  he  answered  : 

"  Hortense,  you  are  the  most  stupidly  sensitive  girl 
one  could  find.  Why,  this  is  a  simple  act  of  justice." 

"  I  know  that,  but  promise  me,"  she  pleaded. 

The  promise  was  given,  and  there  the  conversation 
ended.  Soon  after,  the  two  left  the  room. 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 

POMPEY   BECOMES  UNHAPPY. 

POMPEY'S  work  was  done  for  the  night.  Greatly 
excited  over  what  he  had  heard,  he  hurried 
through  his  duties  with  unusual  zeal ;  and  no  sooner 
were  they  all  dispatched  than  he  darted  out  of  the 
kitchen,  not  even  noticing  the  exclamation  of  the  cook: 

"  Laws  sakes,  chile  !  whar  yer  gwine  ?  Don't  yer 
want  no  supper  ?  " 

But  the  negro  was  gone,  and  In  a  minute  more  he 
was  making  his  way  toward  another  portion  of  the 
town.  Walking  very  fast  for  some  time,  he  at  last 
stopped  before  a  small  two-room  frame  house,  one  of 
several  of  the  kind  grouped  together.  The  door  of 
the  shanty  was  open  and  a  light  burned  within,  but 
there  was  no  one  in  sight.  Pompey  did  not  wait  to 
knock,  but  cried  out  lustily: 

"  Brudder  Tomkins  !     Brudder  !     Is  yer  home  ? " 

A  child  appeared  and  invited  the  visitor  to  enter. 
But,  no  ;  Pompey  wanted  to  see  "  de  brudder."  He 
could  not  come  in.  The  child  retired,  and  directly 
after  that  ecclesiastical  dignitary  came  to  the  door. 

"  What  de  matter  wid  yer,  Pomp  ?  What  yer  doin' 
dis  side  o'  town  now,  eh  nigger? "  was  the  polite  recep 
tion. 

"  Come  out  yar,  brudder,  quick  !  "  cried  Pompey, 
nervously.  "  I  want  fur  ter  tell  yer  sumfin  dat  will 


POMPEY  BECOMES    UNHAPPY.  251 

knock  yer  ober  like  a  streak  o'  lightnin'."  Stepping 
up  close  to  the  preacher,  he  added  :  "  It's  all  'long  o' 
what  Miss  Hortense  say  'bout  de  murder." 

Tomkins  could  not  understand  this  statement ;  he 
looked  at  Pompey  as  though  he  thought  him  crazy. 

"  What  foolishness  is  dis,  nigger  ?  "  he  asked.  "  Is 
yer  eber  gwine  hab  eny  intellection  in  dat  chaff-box  o' 
yourn  ?  " 

"  'Fore  God,  brudder,  I'se  talkin'  sense  dis  time, 
sure  !  "  exclaimed  Pompey  earnestly.  "  I  heerd  Miss 
Hortense  tell  her  pa  how  Maurice  Graham  an'  de 
Major  plan  ter  hang  "Nezzar." 

Tomkins  was  almost  dumb  with  astonishment  at 
these  words  ;  then,  immediately  realizing  that  the  man 
must  really  have  something  important  to  tell,  he  said: 

"  What  meks  yer  talk  so  loud,  Pomp  ?  Come  wid 
me,  whar  we  kin  talk  sensible  like." 

The  two  left  the  house  and  crossed  the  road,  stop 
ping  under  a  large  oak  tree.  "  Now,  Pomp,"  said  Tom- 
kins  gravely,  and  assuming  his  most  dignified  ministe 
rial  tone  as  soon  as  he  was  certain  that  there  was  no 
danger  of  the  communication  being  overheard  by  any 
of  the  neighbors,  "  Now,  Pomp,  what  yer  say  is  a  mat 
ter  ob  solemnibility,  an'  yer  has  perfected  de  height  ob 
wisdom  in  comin'  yar  an'  'municatin'  dis  onexpected 
news  ter  me.  Ain't  I  de  sperit  adviser  ob  de  cullud 
mens  ob  dis  town  ?  An'  dat's  why  I  is  de  proper 
receptable  ob  any  secret  dat's  a'  hangin'  on  yer  mind. 
Mr.  Singleton,  I  allus  said  dat  yer  would  be  a  man 
ef  yer  follow  my  advisability.  What  was  dis  yer  hear 
Miss  Hortense  say  ?  " 

"  Miss  Hortense  tell  her  pa  dat  she  an'  de  Major 
heerd  de  sheriff  an'  Maurice  Graham  when  dey  was 


252  THE   SHADOW  OF    THE   WAR. 

plannin'  ter  ketch  'Nezzar.  No,  it  wasn't  Miss  Hor- 
tense  dat  heerd  it,  but  she  say  de  Major  was  listenin'. 
She  knowed  he  was." 

"  What  was  dat  at,  nigger  ?  " 

"  In  de  lib'rirary  at  de  Grahams  in  Car'llton,  las' 
Friday  night ;  dey  hed  a  party  dere." 

"  Yes,  dat's  so,  dat's  de  time,"  answered  Tomkins, 
intensely  interested.  "But  how  did  Miss  Hortense 
know  de  Major  was  listenin'  ?  " 

"  She  seen  him  !  She  was  in  de  room  when  dey 
come  in,  an'  she  seen  him  hide  away  a'  puppose  ter  lis 
ten.  She  left  de  Major  dar  ;  he  was  fixed  so  dat  de 
sheriff  couldn't  see  him  !  " 

"  Den  Maurice  Graham  must  a'  knowed  de  Major 
was  listenin'  ?  " 

"I  didn't  hear  her  tell  on  dat,  but  she  say  she 
knowed  de  Major  done  de  hangin'  an'  dat  it's  a  real 
shame  fur  people  ter  blame  Marse  Maurice." 

"  Now,  look  yar,  nigger !  Is  yer  tellin'  de  truf 
'bout  dis  thing  ?  "  asked  Tomkins,  severely. 

"  I  kin  swear  ter  it  on  de  Bible,  brudder  !  " 

"  An*  ain't  yer  feared  ter  go  'bout  dis  town  in  de 
night  time  ?  Pomp,  I'se  sorry  fur  ye  !  I  remiserate 
yer,  my  son  !  Don't  yer  know  dat  ef  de  Major 
knowed  dat  yer  was  tellin'  sich  a  story  'bout  him  dat 
he'd  skin  yer  and  den  tek  yer  hide  ter  lash  yer  bones 
wid  ?  Oh,  nigger,  I'd  rudder  be  in  de  fiery  jaws  ob 
hell,  yea,  in  de  bery  mouf  ob  de  burnin'  an'  bottomless 
pit,  dan  hab  Mass  Mixon  ter  know  what  yer  was  tellin' 
on  him  !  " 

The  now  miserable  Pompey  had  at  first  listened  in 
astonishment ;  but  as  the  speaker  had  continued  to 
depict  his  possible  fate,  with  graphic  words  emphati- 


POMPEY  BECOMES    UNHAPPY. 


cally  uttered,  his  astonishment  became  horror,  and 
his  lower  jaw  fell  with  fear  as  the  picture  grew  more 
complete.  Trembling  all  over,  he  clutched  the  preacher 
by  the  arm  and  groaned  : 

"  Fur  mussy  sake  !  yer  ain't  gwine  ter  tell  him,  is 
yer  ?  I  ain't  gone  tole  nobody  else,  brudder." 

"  Den,  Pomp,  yer  has  acted  sensible  like.  You'd 
jest  better  keep  yer  mouf  shet.  Golly  !  wouldn't  de 
Major  eberlastin'ly  skin  yer,  lash  yer,  wash  yer  in 
salt  an'  water  an'  pepper,  an'  den  hang  yer  same  like 
he  done  'Nezzar  !  " 

"  Brudder,  I'll  nebber  say  a  word  mo'  'bout  dis 
ting.  Great  God  !  I  wish  I  nebber  knowed  it !  " 

"  Jest  keep  yer  mouf  shet,  Pomp,  an'  yer  is  safe. 
Ef  yer  don't,  de  Lord  hisself  couldn't  save  yer  !  Go 
home  now  ;  it's  gettin'  late." 

"  Good-night,  brudder  ;  it  'pears  dark  as  de  debbil 
down  dat  road  !  "  Pompey  had  become  very  nervous. 

"  Hab  a  little  sense,  nigger  !  What  meks  yer  sich  a 
fool,  eh  ?  Nobody  knows  de  ting  but  me.  I  allustold 
yer  dat  yer  nebber  had  no  intellection.  Go  home  !  " 
repeated  Tomkins,  peremptorily. 

Pompey  turned  to  obey,  and  as  he  was  disappearing 
his  adviser  added  : 

"  Ef  yer  hears  eny  mo',  be  sure  yer  come  ter  disyar 
habitation  an'  'municate  de  ting  ter  yer  sperit  con 
soler." 

As  soon  as  the  negro  was  gone,  Tomkins  produced 
a  short  pipe,  and  lighting  its  contents,  he  remained 
under  the  tree  in  cogitation  for  some  time.  At  last  his 
meditations  seemed  to  reach  a  decision  ;  emptying  the 
pipe  of  its  ashes,  he  walked  towards  his  dwelling,  mut 
tering  : 

I 


254  THE   SHADOW  OF    THE   WAR. 

''  I  b'lieve  I'd  rudder  trust  Sharpedan  dose  Yankees, 
enyhow,  "cause  ef  dey  is  gotde  money,  dey  mightn't  be 
willin'  ter  pay  me  fur  ter  keep  back  dis  walable  infur- 
mation.  An'  ef  dat  nigger  Pomp  don't  keep  his  mouf 
shet,  I'll  mek  de  niggers  'round  yar  tink  he  knowedall 
de  time  who  done  de  hangin' — an'  den  you'll  hab  ter 
git  out'en  dis  yar  county,  Pomp  !  " 

In  the  morning  Tomkins  boarded  a  train  for  Car- 
rollton,  where  he  went  direct  to  Sharpe's  office.  When, 
an  hour  later,  he  was  on  the  street  again,  his  face  was 
beaming  with  satisfaction,  and  in  the  crown  of  his 
stove-pipe  hat  were  several  crisp  notes  of  our  national 
currency.  A  few  days  later,  Sharpe  paid  a  visit  to 
Belleville  and  had  an  interview  with  Pompey,  whom 
he  pumped  much  more  thoroughly  than  Tomkins  had 
done  ;  and  finally,  by  means  of  a  little  money  and 
many  threats,  the  politician  still  further  impressed 

upon  the  negro  the  necessity  for  absolute  silence. 
***** 

"  What  -did  Mr.  Gravoir  say,  father  ?  "  carelessly 
inquired  Miss  Gildersleeve. 

Mr.  Gildersleeve  had  just  arrived  from  the  depot, 
and  was  met  by  his  daughter  at  the  garden  gate. 
Although  she  had  been  awaiting  his  return  from  Car- 
rollton  with  feverish  impatience  all  the  afternoon,  yet 
her  manner  did  not  now  betray  in  the  least  the  intense 
interest  with  which  she  made  the  inquiry.  Having 
first  kissed  her  father  as  usual,  and  then  energetically 
brushed  away  a  trifle  of  dust  from  the  lapel  of  his 
coat  as  though  it  absorbed  her  every  thought,  Hor- 
tense  put  the  question  in  a  sudden  casual  tone,  as  if 
she  had  only  that  moment  recollected  the  subject. 

"  We    had    quite   a   long   talk,"    came    the    reply, 


POMPEY  BECOMES    UNHAPPY.  255 

with  apparently  much  deeper  concern  "  Gravoir's 
suspicions,  like  those  of  every  one  else,  pointed  to 
Major  Mixon  as  the  perpetrator  of  this  crime.  In  fact, 
we  both  believe  that  Mixon  overheard  that  conversa 
tion.  Gravoir  explained  to  me  the  arrangement  of 
the  library  ;  and  if  Mixon  did  not  go  out  with  you,  he 
must  have  remained  there.  There  was  no  other  way 
for  him  to  get  out.  Indeed,  the  matter  admits  of  very 
little  doubt,  if  the  circumstances  are  as  you  related." 

"  I  am  absolutely  sure  of  them  !  "  exclaimed  Hor- 
tense,  dropping  her  careless  manner.  "  But  tell  me, 
what  will  Mr.  Gravoir  do  ?  " 

"  He  says  positively  that  nothing  must  be  done,  and 
that  you  are  to  be  very  careful  that  you  give  no  inti  • 
mation  to  any  one  of  what  you  know." 

"What  !  "  came  from  the  young  lady,  in  unfeigned 
surprise.  "  What !  does  Mr.  Gravoir  mean  to  allow 
Maurice  Graham  to  be  treated  so  unjustly  ?  " 

"  I  was  also  surprised,  my  daughter,  when  he  first 
made  that  statement  ;  but  his  reasons  are  at  least 
worthy  of  notice,"  replied  Mr.  Gildersleeve. 

"  I  can  understand  no  reason  why  an  injustice 
should  not  be  repaired  !  "  exclaimed  Hortense,  impetu 
ously. 

"  That  is  true  in  general,  my  dear  ;  but  there  is 
another  reason,  favoring  your  views,  to  which  I 
attached  more  importance.  I  would  prefer  a  seeming 
injustice  to  Graham — one  that  his  personal  character 
contradicts,  or  which  he  can  live  down — than  that  a 
great  public  crime  like  this  lynching  should  go  unpun 
ished." 

"  But  to  punish  the  criminal  is  to  exonerate  Graham," 
persisted  Hortense. 
R 


256  THE   SHADOW  OF    THE   WAR. 

"  Exactly  ;  and  as  the  one  is  impossible,  so  is  the 
other.  It  would  be  extremely  difficult  to  serve  Mixon 
his  deserts  in  this  matter  ;  and  if  the  attempt  ended  in 
failure — as  it  probably  would — public  opinion  is  such 
that  Graham  would  be  injured  instead  of  being  bene 
fited.  Gravoir  says  that  the  negro  was  undoubtedly  a 
criminal — which  I  believe  ;  and  while  people  generally 
condemn  the  mode,  yet  they  think  the  lynching  justi 
fied.  At  present,  Graham  enjoys  the  sympathy  of  the 
community  ;  but  the  moment  he  endeavored  to  clear 
himself,  at  Mixon's  expense,  of  an  imputation  that  has 
no  weight,  his  course  would  be  condemned  in  the  city. 
I  do  not  approve  the  sentiment — far  from  it  ;  but  you 
see,  Hortense,  there  is  a  political  principle  underlying 
these  issues.  Men  feel  that  they  are  bound  to  each 
other  by  the  strongest  of  ties — that  of  a  community  of 
interests.  The  people  know  that  the  laws  afford  but 
slight  protection  ;  and  they  argue  that  Mixon  acted 
only  as  most  men  would.  However,  while  I  can  not 
assent  wholly  to  that,  yet  if  he  had  not  hung  the 
negro  in  cold  blood,  I  would  have  more  excuse  for 
him  ;  or  if  he  had  killed  the  man  while  suffering  under 
the  immediate  anger  at  his  loss,  I  would  say  that  much 
allowance  should  be  made.  As  it  is,  I  would  like  to 
see  Mixon  punished  ;  he  deserves  it  for  his  cruelty  ; 
but  his  conviction  would  be  a  long  and  difficult  affair, 
only  serving  to  stir  up  passions  already  hot  enough, 
and  consolidating  still  more  strongly  the  black  vote  on 
the  side  of  this  diabolical  government." 

"  Then  there  is  nothing  more  to  be  done  ?  "  asked 
Hortense,  who  had  listened  with  much  chagrin,  to  hear 
her  plans  for  serving  Maurice  Graham  scattered  in  the 
dust. 


POMPEY  BECOMES    UNHAPPY.  257 

"  No  ;  I  believe,  on  the  whole,  that  it  is  best  to 
leave  the  matter  here,  or  at  least  to  await  develop 
ments  ;  and  if  at  any  time  it  seems  possible  to  aid  jus 
tice,  we  can  consider  the  subject  again.  Come,  Hor- 
tense,  mother  must  think  we  are  lost." 


CHAPTER   XXV. 

THE  BEGINNING  OF   THE   END. 

IN  1868,  after  the  Reconstruction  measures  had 
become  complete,  the  Republican,  or,  as  it  was 
locally  called,  Radical  party,  easily  succeeded  in  elect 
ing  its  entire  ticket.  The  causes  which  led  to  that 
result  are  manifest.  On  the  side  of  the  victorious 
party  was  a  skillful  organization,  supported  by  a  cen 
tral  government  which  was  then  brilliant  with  all  the 
Jclatoi  a  great  national  success  ;  while  their  opponents, 
scarcely  realizing  the  issue,  not  only  lacked  the  sem 
blance  of  organization,  but,  yielding  to  the  apathy 
which  had  followed  previous  failure,  they  even 
neglected,  with  haughty  disdain,  to  cast  their  ballots. 
"  I  will  never  vote  alongside  the  negro  !  "  was  a  com 
mon  expression  at  that  time.  But  like  the  small  boy 
who  would  not  have  his  cake  unless  he  were  given 
candy  also,  these  same  men  were  very  glad,  after  a  few 
years  of  bitter  experience,  to  get  their  cake  in  any 
fashion.  Awakened  at  last,  the  native  whites  realized 
their  error,  and  perceived  that  the  situation  was  only 
the  logical  result  of  natural  causes.  The  majority  of 
votes  held  by  the  negroes  ;  their  ignorance  and  creduli 
ty  ;  their  enthusiastic  gratitude  for  freedom  ;  the  fear 
that  this  condition  might  at  any  time  be  lost,  exposing 
them  to  the  vengeance  of  their  former  masters  ;  the 
presence  of  the  carpet-bagger,  with  his  insinuating 

(258) 


THE  BEGINNING  OF   THE  END.  259 

counsels  and  corrupt  methods  ;  the  minority  of  the 
whites,  and  their  indifference  ;  the  apparently  wide 
divergence  of  interests  between  the  former  master  and 
the  late  slave  ;  occasional  race  conflicts,  augmenting 
the  fears  and  prejudices  of  people  of  both  colors  ; — 
these  were  the  main  causes  effecting  the  formation  of 
a  party  which,  for  a  time,  was  absolute  in  its  power. 

In  1870,  a  small  number  of  the  native  whites 
became  aroused  by  a  sense  of  impending  evil  in  the 
near  future.  The  administration  of  the  two  preceding 
years  had  destroyed  every  hope  of  good  government 
under  the  Radical  party,  and  even  in  this  party  there 
was  an  honest  element  that  revolted  from  the  frauds, 
peculations  and  crimes  which  had  stamped  with  infamy 
the  acts  of  its  officials  and  the  course  of  its  legislation. 
As  the  next  campaign  opened,  a  coalition  was  formed 
between  these  two  elements,  and  the  Conservative 
party  was  born.  With  a  Republican  as  its  candidate 
for  Governor,  and  a  Democrat  for  Lieutenant-Gover 
nor,  the  remainder  of  the  ticket  being  apportioned  in 
a  similar  manner,  the  new  party  entered  the  field  upon 
its  heroic  protest  against  corruption.  But  unfortunately, 
the  effort  availed  nothing  ;  the  general  unconcern  of 
the  whites  and  the  distrust  of  the  negroes  effectually 
precluded  enlistment  in  the  cause.  The  Bourbonism 
of  the  former,  who  rebelled  against  voting  for  a  Repub 
lican,  and  the  suspicion  of  the  negroes  because  of  his 
affiliation  with  Democrats,  were  fatal  to  supremacy  at 
the  ballot-box.  But  while  the  conditions  necessary  to 
success  did  not  exist,  and  although  the  defeat  seemed 
overwhelming  for  a  time,  yet  the  effort  was  not  wholly 
useless.  One  lesson  had  been  taken  in  the  new  educa 
tion  which  Southern  minds  were  to  receive,  and  one 


260  THE   SHADOW  OF   THE   WAR. 

step  had  been  made  toward  that  radical  change  in 
Southern  sentiment  which  alone  could  bring  the  revo 
lution  to  a  happy  end. 

At  the  next  election,  the  whites  succumbed  hope 
lessly  to  what  they  believed  to  be  the  inevitable.  Al 
ready  despairing  of  relief  through  their  own  efforts, 
the  crushing  exposure  of  the  Kuklux  organizations  at 
this  time  completed  the  dismay  of  the  more  liberal 
classes,  who  would  have  sought  to  solve  their  difficul 
ties  by  more  civilized  methods  ;  and  the  rigid  enforce 
ment  of  the  laws  against  these  enormities  added  to  the 
general  discomfiture.  So  the  Republicans  had  the  field 
to  themselves  ;  and  for  a  few  years  the  two  wings  of 
the  party  fought  each  other  fiercely  for  the  mastery. 
Meanwhile,  each  administration  grew  more  reckless 
and  the  civilization  of  the  State  more  imperiled.  At 
the  third  election,  the  Democrats,  as  a  body,  remained 
inactive,  and  supported  that  faction  of  the  dominant 
party  which  possessed  the  greater  promise  of  respecta 
bility.  This  continued  inactivity  may  seem  strange, 
but  its  causes  are  not  obscure.  The  natural  despair  of 
ever  overturning  a  compact  negro  majority  of  thirty 
thousand  votes  engendered  a  sense  of  weakness  which 
produced  a  natural  lack  of  vigor.  Again,  the  reform 
leaders  felt  powerless  to  succeed  without  the  coopera 
tion  of  the  better  class  of  Republicans,  and  many  white 
voters  did  not  cast  their  votes  because  of  the  mongrel 
composition  of  the  new  Party  —  because,  in  fact,  they 
would  be  associated  with  Republicans  !  The  same 
preposterous  feelings  of  pride  and  haughtiness  still  in 
fluenced  a  considerable  portion  of  the  old  white  popu 
lation  ;  and  so  strong  were  these  traits  of  the  once 
prominent  Southern  character,  that  many  preferred 


THE   BEGINNING  OF    THE  END.  261 

political  nonentity  to  compromise.  Consequently, 
whenever  the  Conservative  party  endeavored  to  uproot 
the  rascally  crew  that  controlled  the  government,  trie 
defection  from  the  Republicans  was  small,  and  the 
Democrats  rendered  only  feeble  support. 

Governor  Northborn's  personal  administration  had 
proven  a  genuine  surprise  to  all  classes.  The  white 
people,  though  far  from  being  unanimous,  had  sup 
ported  his  opponent  so  actively  that  the  usual  negro 
majority  was  reduced  to  ten  thousand.  Because  of 
Northborn's  passive  conduct  as  attorney-general,  public 
estimation  had  ranked  him  as  but  little  better  than  the 
worst  elements  of  the  party.  But  when,  to  the  infinite 
disgust  of  his  own  satellites  and  the  astonishment  of 
his  enemies,  he  instituted,  as  far  as  his  power  lay,  a 
vigorous  reform  in  the  various  departments  of  govern 
ment,  all  the  respectability  of  the  State  rallied  with  a 
shout  of  enthusiasm  to  his  support,  and  for  a  time  the 
people  had  hope.  But  it  was  soon  evident  that  North 
born's  fellow  leaders  had  very  little  sympathy  with  his 
views ;  and  although  his  efforts  were  earnest  and  stren 
uous,  they  failed  to  overcome  a  determined  opposition. 
The  negroes  had  too  perfect  control  of  both  houses  of 
the  legislature,  their  ignorance  was  too  dense,  their  cu 
pidity  too  uncompromising,  their  morals  too  rotten,  and 
their  infatuation  too  extravagant,  to  be  checked  by  the 
very  man  whom  they  had  elevated  to  power.  Nor  did 
the  other  leaders  perceive  that  a  deadly  struggle  was 
imminent  betwixt  civilization  and  barbarism  ;  lacking 
the  far-reaching  acumen  of  Northborn,  they  relied  with 
blind  assurance  on  the  negro  majority  as  the  unques 
tionable  and  sole  condition  of  their  continuance  in 
power.  The  black  legislature,  accustomed  to  the  air- 


262  THE    SHADOW  OF    THE   WAR. 

ing  of  lofty  sentiments,  listened  to  Northborn's  inaugu 
ral  message  and  scarcely  smiled.  But  as  soon  as  the 
Executive  proceeded  to  carry  out  those  reform  views, 
threats  and  denunciations  of  his  course  were  loud  and 
frequent,  ending  with  the  accusation  of  treachery  and 
the  almost  complete  helplessness  of  the  Governor. 
The  turbulent  insolence  of  the  negro  population  had 
become  greatly  augmented  of  late  years  by  the  con 
stant  defeat  of  their  opponents,  and  this  uninterrupted 
tenure  of  power  had  given  them  a  sense  of  security  and 
authority.  Their  jubilation  and  defiance  reached  their 
culmination  in  the  election  of  Phelps  as  judge.  But 
while  the  negroes  rejoiced,  this  last  act  had  horrified 
the  whites;  now,  if  never  before,  they  realized  their  con 
dition,  and  it  seemed  as  though  a  bugle  had  suddenly 
sounded,  awakening  them  from  a  long  sleep.  With 
rapid  change  of  public  thought,  they  no  longer  regarded 
the  issue  as  merely  political  ;  but  their  patriotism  was 
aroused  ;  their  love  of  home,  of  life,  of  property,  of 
virtue,  goaded  them  to  action  in  this  their  darkest 
hour ;  and,  consonant  with  the  Southern  character, 
either  suicidal  in  its  listlessness  or  desperate  in  its  en 
ergy,  the  whole  State,  from  mountain  to  seaboard,  was 
soon  aflame  with  the  contagious  spirit  of  reaction. 

Governor  Northborn  undoubtedly  appreciated  this 
change  from  the  beginning,  and  his  efforts  were  un 
ceasing  to  infuse  into  the  people  a  sense  of  the  peril 
which  menaced  the  body  politic.  In  his  own  apt  lan 
guage,  "  The  Civilization  of  the  Puritan  and  the  Cava 
lier  is  in  danger  !  "  This  active  opposition  to  his  rank 
and  file  brought  upon  him  an  inevitable  revolt,  and 
threats  were  freely  uttered  by  his  compeers  that  they 
would  no  longer  abide  his  fellowship.  But  the  astute 


THE  BEGINNING   OF    THE  END.  263 

Northborn  was  scheming  for  a  new  departure — the 
formation  of  another  party,  composed  of  the  better 
elements  among  the  Republicans  and  the  native  whites, 
of  which  he  was  to  be  the  leader  ;  and  to  assure  the 
success  of  the  venture,  it  must  possess  not  only  the 
unanimous  but  the  enthusiastic  support  of  the  whites. 
Upon  this  ground  alone  can  the  motive  for  some  of  his 
reform  acts  be  explained.  Although  he  made  no  open 
overtures  to  the  Democrats,  yet  it  was  very  evident 
that  he  desired  to  effect  such  a  coalition;  and  his  efforts 
towards  its  accomplishment  continued  unabated  until 
after  the  adjournment  of  the  Democratic  convention. 

For  the  first  time  since  Secession,  the  people  were 
united  ;  they  only  differed  now,  as  then,  regarding  the 
means  to  the  end  ;  they  all  appreciated  the  necessity 
for  prompt  and  successful  action.  In  every  household, 
Reform  and  Redemption  were  the  constant  themes  of 
conversation,  and  even  mere  children  caught  the  in 
fection  which  spared  no  honest  man.  Political  princi 
ples  were  never  discussed  ;  their  importance  had  dwin 
dled  to  insignificance  beside  the  blaze  of  this  other 
conflagration,  and  the  most  confirmed  abolitionist  of 
the  North  would  have  been  hailed  with  joy  as  a  deliv 
erer  could  he  have  insured  relief.  To  many,  Governor 
Northborn  appeared  as  the  man  of  the  hour ;  and 
numbers  of  the  people  believed  that  he  alone  could 
meet  the  exigencies  of  the  day.  The  earnestness  of 
his  reform  measures  had  inspired  so  much  confidence 
in  his  honesty  of  purpose,  that  had  he  been  able  to 
guarantee  success,  Northborn  would  have  received, 
beyond  a  doubt,  the  nomination  for  Governor  by  the 
whites.  But  the  very  measures  which  had  given  him 
the  gratitude  of  the  latter,  had  also  brought  about  a 


264  THE   SHADOW  OF    THE   WAR. 

serious  defection  in  the  Radical  ranks  ;  and  until  his 
position  had  been  finally  established,  there  was  never 
a  better  illustration  of  the  biblical  precept  that  "  no 
man  can  serve  two  masters."  Many  of  the  Democratic 
leaders  feared  that  Northborn  would  be  unable  to 
carry  the  black  vote  under  their  banner,  and  they 
justly  cited  the  disastrous  failures  which  had  always 
attended  the  coalition  policy  in  the  past  years.  Even 
some  of  the  more  conservative  were  forced  to  admit  a 
doubt  whether  the  whites  would  support  en  masse  a 
man  who  had  been  associated  so  long  with  these  vul 
tures.  Although  Northborn  had  many  supporters, 
who,  in  addition  to  his  other  claims,  urged  the  power 
ful  argument  that  his  nomination  would  conciliate  the 
powers  at  Washington,  yet  gradually,  as  the  time  for 
decision  drew  near,  there  appeared  two  parties  among 
the  whites:  the  one,  conservative  ;  the  other,  "  straight- 
out  "  Democratic,  which  laughed  at  compromise. 

When  the  convention  assembled,  this  difference  of 
opinion  was  at  once  manifest.  The  delegates  from 
the  coast  were  generally  conservative,  while  those 
from  the  middle  and  upper  counties  advocated  the 
"  straight-out"  policy.  To  appreciate  the  position  one 
must  understand  the  difference  in  life  between  the  two 
sections.  The  upper  portion  of  the  state  enjoys  a 
salubrious  climate,  is  fertile  in  varied  agricultural  re 
sources,  and  is  generally  calculated  to  develop  a  large 
white  population.  The  coast  or  piney-wood  region  is, 
on  the  contrary,  mostly  poor  soil ;  it  abounds  in  swamps 
and  morasses,  from  which  the  malarial  miasm  arises, 
forbidding  to  some  extent  the  residence  of  white  peo 
ple  ;  and  though  splendidly  adapted  here  and  there  to 
the  cultivation  of  certain  products,  these  are  limited  in 


THE  BEGINNING   OF   THE  END.  265 

their  number,  uncertain  in  their  yield,  and  require  the 
negro  as  a  laborer.  As  a  consequence  of  such  natural 
causes,  the  blacks  congregate  largely  in  the  lower  coun 
ties,  where  they  roll  up  immense  majorities  on  election 
day.  Even  at  this  time  some  of  the  interior  counties 
were  controlled  by  the  Democrats,  or  in  many  instances 
the  Republicans  won  only  by  small  majorities.  Be 
sides,  the  negro  population  in  these  upper  counties  is 
composed  of  a  more  intelligent  class  of  people,  more 
amenable  to  reason  than  those  of  the  coast  region  who 
are  literally  in  a  condition  of  semi-barbarism.  No 
wonder,  then,  that  there  should  be  some  conservatives 
who  were  dismayed  at  the  very  contemplation  of  con 
verting  a  black  majority  of  thirty  thousand  votes  in 
favor  of  a  purely  Democratic  ticket.  And  the  marvel 
is  that  it  ever  was  accomplished. 

In  the  convention,  whose  decision  was  awaited  with 
anxiety  by  thousands,  the  two  different  lines  of  policy 
were  long  considered  ;  but  finally  the  mode  of  action 
advocated  by  the  "straight-out"  men  was  adopted. 
Until  this  conclusion  was  reached  there  had  been  honest 
differences  of  opinion ;  but  afterwards,  to  the  credit  of 
all  be  it  said,  an  enthusiastic  unanimity  prevailed  until 
the  campaign  was  gloriously  concluded.  The  essential 
feature  having  been  determined,  the  convention  de 
fined  more  particularly  its  general  policy.  In  the  first 
place,  the  party  ranks  must  be  recruited  from  the  black 
vote,  the  choice  of  the  means  to  be  employed  to  this 
end  being  confided  to  the  local  committee  of  each 
county  ;  but,  in  general,  the  conciliation  of  the  blacks 
was  enjoined.  Their  fears  must  be  dissipated  ;  they 
must  be  made  to  understand  the  situation  and  its 
necessities,  and  they  must  be  convinced  that  whatever 


266  THE   SHADOW  OF    THE   WAR. 

the  attitude  of  the  native  whites  toward  the  negro  in 
the  past,  they  need  no  longer  fear  oppression  should 
the  Democratic  party  resume  control.  Without  forc 
ing  such  a  conviction  upon  the  negro  all  other  efforts 
would  be  useldss.  A  wonderful  change  in  Southern 
sentiment  ! 

Again,  the  policy  must  be  vigorous  and  aggressive. 
At  present  the  popular  pulse  was  agitated  by  a  feverish 
enthusiasm  ;  but  the  people  must  not  be  allowed  to 
despair,  reaction  must  be  averted,  and  the  strongest 
stimulation  applied  to  bring  forward  the  thousands  of 
votes  which  had  never  before  sought  the  polls.  But  while 
aggressive,  the  policy  should  not  call  for  interference 
by  the  United  States  Government.  What  the  Radicals 
desired  most,  and  the  whites  feared  most,  was  a  period 
of  turbulent  and  riotous  excitement  which  would 
excuse  the  presence  of  national  troops  and  marshals. 
To  some  extent  this  restraint  must  be  expected,  but,  if 
possible,  the  conduct  of  the  campaign  should  be  peace 
able.  These,  then,  were  the  issues:  the  blacks  to  be 
conciliated  and  their  votes  obtained  at  all  events  ;  the 
sympathy  of  the  country  gained,  national  interference 
avoided,  and  the  entire  people  to  be  roused  into  a 
masterful  activity. 

The  convention  was  particularly  happy  in  the  choice 
of  its  candidate  for  Governor.  General  Peyteinte  had 
long  been  known  as  a  strongly  conservative  man  in  his 
views,  and  as  a  sincere  and  practical  friend  of  the 
negro.  Coming  of  an  old  family,  his  people  had  exer 
cised  for  some  generations  considerable  influence  over 
the  affairs  of  the  State,  and  at  the  present  day  arc  the 
ruling  spirits  of  their  community.  General  Peyteinte 
had  held  subordinate  office  before  the  war,  and,  like 


THE  BEGINNING   OF    THE  END.  267 

the  rest  of  his  class,  had  been  very  wealthy.  The  war 
beginning,  he  sprang  forward  to  the  defense  of  his 
State,  and  fought  bravely  for  what  he  believed  to  be  a 
righteous  cause ;  but  with  the  downfall  of  the  Confed 
eracy,  and  the  loss  of  much  of  his  fortune,  he  calmly 
and  resolutely  faced  the  future  with  an  acceptance  of 
the  accomplished  results  in  his  heart.  From  that  day 
General  Peyteinte  had  consistently  maintained,  both 
by  word  and  action,  the  sincerity  of  that  acceptance  ; 
and  he  unsparingly  condemned  the  political  bush 
whacking  of  Reconstruction  days.  He  had  been  one 
of  the  first  to  advocate  the  investiture  of  the  blacks 
with  the  right  of  suffrage,  even  before  the  measure 
had  been  determined  upon  by  the  national  Republican 
party.  But  in  that  day  the  South  heeded  not  such 
advice  ;  in  advance  of  the  times  in  the  maturity  of 
these  views,  his  counsels  were  unavailing,  and  the  car 
pet-bag  government  appeared.  His  nomination  as 
Governor  was  proof  of  the  change  which  Southern 
sentiment  had  recently  undergone.  Now,  at  last,  his 
time  had  come  ;  and  the  people  were  not  only  willing 
to  listen  to  him,  but  they  saw  in  him  the  only  man  who 
could  lead  their  cause  to  victory.  His  candidacy  would 
relieve  the  anxiety  of  the  North  ;  more  than  any  other 
man  he  could  disarm  the  fears  of  the  negro  ;  and  the 
universal  love  which  the  people  bore  him  would  guar 
antee  a  flood  of  enthusiasm  sufficient  to  sweep  over  all 
barriers.  The  Democrats  joyfully  hailed  Peyteinte's 
nomination,  and  on  the  adjournment  of  the  convention 
the  work  of  the  campaign  began  with  an  impressive 
earnestness  which  amazed  the  scoffing  Radicals.  All 
over  the  State  ratification  meetings  were  held,  in  which 
negroes  freely  participated.  All  of  General  Peyteinte's 


268  THE   SHADOW  OF    THE    WAR. 

former  slaves,  of  whom  he  had  many,  announced  their 
determination  to  support  him,  and  some  even  offered 
their  services.  Perhaps  no  man  of  his  day  enjoyed  a 
truer  personal  popularity  than  Peyteinte.  Winning 
those  who  ventured  into  his  presence  by  a  wonderful 
magnetism  of  manner,  endeared  to  many  by  his  gallant 
comradeship  of  the  battlefield,  and  respected  by  all 
because  of  his  unflinching  consistency  ;  of  unquestion 
able  moderation,  integrity,  and  justice  ;  protecting  the 
blacks  on  many  occasions,  and  never  abusing  their 
confidence,  no  man  possessed  to  a  greater  degree  the 
qualifications  which  the  position  demanded.  His  lan 
guage  on  accepting  the  nomination  will  ever  be  mem 
orable.  In  a  voice  vibrating  with  emotion,  and  his 
countenance  betraying  its  intensity,  he  uttered  these 
impassioned  words  : 

"  In  the  presence  of  the  people  of  this  State,  and  in 
the  presence  of  my  God,  I  pledge  myself,  that  if 
elected,  I  shall  know  no  party,  no  race,  no  color  or 
condition,  in  the  administration  of  the  laws.  I  shall 
be  Governor  of  the  entire  People." 

Within  a  week  or  two  after  the  session  of  the  Dem 
ocrats,  the  Republicans  held  their  convention.  So  soon 
as  Northborn  perceived  that  the  Democratic  nomina 
tion  was  beyond  his  reach,  his  change  of  front  was 
immediate.  He  now  devoted  himself  assiduously  to 
reconciling  the  dissensions  in  his  own  party,  and  by  all 
the  chicanery  of  political  intrigue  he  endeavored  to 
regain  his  former  control.  There  was  no  longer  any 
ambiguity  about  his  position  ;  he  and  his  supporters 
denounced  the  Democrats  unsparingly,  and  hastened 
to  place  themselves  squarely  upon  the  side  of  negroism 
in  the  coming  issue  between  the  two  races.  In  spite 


THE  BEGINNING  OF   THE  END.  269 

of  all  his  efforts,  a  most  bitter  opposition  was  devel 
oped  against  him  in  the  convention  ;  and  for  a  time 
Northborn's  prestige  wavered.  But  the  man  possessed 
wonderful  talent  for  organization  ;  a  majority  of  the 
delegates  were  venal,  and  there  really  was  no  one  in 
the  party  who  could  with  greater  chances  conduct  their 
campaign  to  success.  So  finally,  after  a  lengthy  speech, 
in  which  he  utterly  repudiated  the  Democrats,  and  the 
accusation  that  he  would  ever  again  court  their  ap 
plause,  his  intelligence  triumphed  over  the  ignorance 
of  the  opposition,  and  Northborn  was  again  the  Re 
publican  candidate  for  Governor. 


CHAPTER  XXVI. 

THE  SCHEMER  AND  HIS  TOOL. 

AT  about  seven  o'clock  one  morning  in  the  early 
part  of  August,  the  Reverend  Tomkins  was 
seated  on  his  door  stoop,  busily  engaged  in  deciphering 
the  contents  of  a  newspaper  two  days  old.  The  paper, 
which  was  of  the  most  pronounced  Democratic  tenden 
cies,  contained  an  account  of  the  action  of  the  late  Re 
publican  Convention  ;  and  it  was  upon  these  important 
columns  that  Tomkins  now  bent  the  full  force  of  his 
mental  energies.  The  paper  was  borrowed  from  the 
keeper  of  a  low  grocery  and  groggery,  a  place  fre 
quented  entirely  by  negroes;  and  on  the  previous  even 
ing  Tomkins  had  managed,  with  the  assistance  of  the 
proprietor,  who  was  a  white  man,  to  acquire  an  ap 
proximate  idea  of  the  news.  Not  satisfied  with  the 
one  reading,  he  had  taken  the  sheet  home;  and  as  soon 
as  he  awoke  in  the  morning  his  thoughts  reverted  at 
once  to  the  absorbing  subject.  Tomkins  regarded  it 
as  a  duty  to  be  informed  on  current  political  events  ; 
else,  how  could  he  advise  his  congregation  and  sustain 
his  reputation  as  a  wise  man  ?  But  the  labor  of  read 
ing  alone  was  very  great ;  he  progressed  slowly,  spell 
ing  out  a  word  here  and  puzzling  over  another  there, 
and  sometimes  whole  sentences  would  appear  whose 
mysterious  meaning  was  far  beyond  his  reach  unless 
his  imagination  or  memory  furnished  a  clue,  Occa- 

(270) 


THE   SCHEMER   AND   HIS    TOOL.  271 

sionally  a  chuckle  would  escape  him,  as  the  doings  of 
the  convention  met  his  approval ;  but  oftener  he 
would  utter  some  hurried  exclamation  of  disgust, 
excited,  not  so  much  by  the  news,  as  by  the  mixture  of 
ridicule  and  satire  with  which  it  was  told. 

"  Dese  Dimicrats  tinks  'cause  dey  publicates  de 
paper  in  Car'llton  dat  dey  is  got  all  de  sense  an'  edica- 
tion,"  mused  Tomkins,  greatly  aggrieved.  "  Now  jest 
ter  read  dis!  '  The  nomination  of  a  black-and-tan  tick 
et.'  Did  eber  eny  one  eber  hears  de  like  o'  dat  remark? 
An'  furder  on,  '  Hoisting  the  black  flag  ! '  Golly  !  dey 
is  kerect  dere  !  Soon  we'se  gwine  hab  none  but  culled 
genelmens  ter  run  dis  yar  State.  An'  dere's  my  frien' 
de  Honable  Mr.  Sharpe  ;  dat  man,  I  knows,  kin  mek  a 
highfalutin  talk,  and  dis  yar  paper  calls  his  speech  in 
de  convention  '  ground  and  lofty  tumbling."  No  won 
der  de  niggers  ob  dis  yar  State  wont  stan'  no  sich 
foolishness  !  Dey  better  nebber  nominated  Northborn; 
but  den  we  mus'  all  stan'  by  de  party,  an'  we'll  teach 
dese  yar  white  trash,  'tic'larly  dem  like  dat  debbil 
Mixon,  dat  de  niggers  don't  'long  ter  dem  no  mo' 
but  .  .  .  Hello!  what  yer  wants  now,  eh?" 

This  last  question  was  addressed  to  a  white  boy 
who  had  just  come  up  to  the  shanty. 

"  Here's  a  message  for  you,  Daddy  Tomkins,"  an 
swered  the  boy,  a  telegraph  messenger. 

"  Who's  dat  yer  calls  daddy,  eh  ?  Willie  Scott, 
yer's  an  impident  little  scrub  !  You  white  chilluns 
ain't  got  no  mo'  manners  dan  yer  pas  an'  yer  mas  ! 
.Yer  tinks  'cause  a  man's  skin  is  black  dat  yer  ain't  got 
no  call  fur  ter  gib  'im  reberence.  Yer's  white  on  de 
outside,  but  yer's  black'rn  sin  widin,  an'  I'se  white 
beneat  dis  out'rn  garmint." 


272  THE   SHADOW  OF   THE   WAR. 

"  Better  wash  your  face  then,  old  man  !  "  scoffed  the 
boy. 

"I  lets  yer  know,"  cried  the  preacher,  rising  with 
wrathful  dignity,  "dat  I  is  de  Reberin'  Mr.  Tomkins, 
an"  ef  yer  gibs  me  any  yer  sass  I'll  wallup  yer  !  Does 
yer  hear  dat,  yer  impident  little  cuss  !  " 

"Ah  !  ah  !  Call  you  Mister  Tomkins?  You  old 
Radical  nigger,  you  put  on  like  a  white  man  !  " 

"  Gib  me  de  message  !  "  demanded  Tomkins,  glar 
ing  fiercely  and  advancing  on  the  boy. 

"  Not  'till  you  sign  that  book,  Daddy !  Daddy ! 
Daddy  ! "  returned  the  boy,  retreating,  and  ready  to 
seize  an  opportunity  of  tormenting  a  man  so  univer 
sally  hated  by  the  whites. 

"  Willie  Scott,"  said  Tomkins,  altering  his  tone  from 
that  of  anger  to  one  of  soft  persuasion  as  soon  as  he 
perceived  how  impossible  it  would  be  to  catch  the 
nimble  footed  little  fellow ;  "  Willie  Scott,  did  yer 
nebber  hear  tell  how  de  ragin'  tigers  an'  de  bars  eat 
up  de  wicked  chilluns  'cause  dey  calls  bad  names  on  a 
preacher?  Is  yer  gwine  ter  do  as  dem  bad  chilluns 
done  ?  Now  gib  me  de  book  ter  sign,  sonny;  I'se  not 
agwine  ter  hurt  yer." 

"  Sure  you  won't  hit  me?"  asked  the  boy,  doubt 
fully. 

"  In  course  I  won't ;  I'd  rudder  talk  ter  yer  in  de 
words  ob  wisdom,  an'  'swade  yer  ter  depart  from  de 
ways  ob  de  wicked,  an'  ter  seek  de  hebenly  blessen' 
dat's  a'  shinin'  bright  as  de  new  yaller  gold  on  de  top 
o'  Cabalry  Hill.  Come,  Willie,  dat's  a  good  boy." 

Finally,  after  a  little  more  coaxing,  the  boy  handed 
the  receipt  book  and  telegram  to  the  preacher,  who 
remarked  : 


THE   SCHEMER  AND  HIS    TOOL.  273 

"Yer  might  a'  done  dis  widout  any  fuss,  Willie." 

Tomkins  slowly  scrawled  something  unrecogniza 
ble  in  the  book  as  his  signature,  and  then  opened  the 
envelope. 

"  Kin  yer  read  dis  ? "  asked  he,  after  staring  hope 
lessly  at  the  writing. 

"  Of  course  I  can  ;  I  go  to  school  every  winter," 
returned  the  messenger,  full  of  curiosity.  "  It  ain't 
hard  to  read,"  patronisingly  ;  and  the  boy  read  as  fol 
lows  : 

" '  Come  down  on  next  train  and  meet  me  at  my 
house  at  four  o'clock. — M.  SHARPE.'  " 

"  Ef  yer  hadn't  been  so  sassy,  Willie,  I'd  gib  yer 
five  cents." 

"  Do  you  think  I'd  take  money  from  you,  nigger  ?  " 
answered  the  boy,  again  retreating. 

"  Git  out,  yer  sassy  piece  !  " 

"  Daddy  !     Daddy  !  " 

"  Yer  impident,  low-lived,  brazen-faced  whelp  !  " 
cried  the  enraged  Tomkins,  stooping  to  pick  up  a  pine 

burr  ;  but  the  boy  was  gone. 

****** 

It  was  precisely  four  o'clock  in  the  afternoon  when 
Tomkins  rang  the  door-bell  of  Sharpe's  dwelling.  This 
house,  a  handsome  three-story  brick  edifice  with  broad 
piazzas  and  a  beautiful  garden  on  one  side,  had  been 
built  by  a  former  wealthy  family  ;  but  a  year  or  two 
back,  its  owner  being  in  financial  distress,  the  property 
had  been  sold  at  auction  by  the  sheriff,  and  Sharpe 
had  quickly  improved  the  opportunity  to  purchase 
a  fine  residence  in  an  aristocratic  neighborhood.  Of 
course,  his  presence  among  them  was  completely 
ignored  by  the  people  around  ;  as  usual,  they  affected 


274  THE   SHADOW  OF   THE   WAR. 

not  to  perceive  the  disagreeable.  Sharpe,  however, 
understood  the  feeling,  and  it  gave  the  man  a  sarcastic 
pleasure  to  think  with  what  disgust  these  haughty 
aristocrats  regarded  his  proximity.  The  larger  por 
tion  of  the  house  was  unfurnished,  and  was  kept 
constantly  closed  except  for  occasional  airings. 
Sharpe  was  a  bachelor,  and  occupied  only  a  suite  of 
the  rooms,  but  these  were  superbly  appointed,  with 
a  lavish  profusion  of  rich  furniture  and  ornament. 
Various  reports  circulated  around  the  city  from  time 
to  time  concerning  the  grand  dinners  and  suppers 
with  which  Sharpe  entertained  his  fellow  politicians, 
and  of  the  orgies  and  mad  revelry  in  which  the  com 
pany  indulged  on  such  occasions. 

"  Is  dat  you,  Mr.  Tomkins?"  obsequiously  exclaimed 
the  negro  boy  who  answered  the  bell.  "Walk  in, 
sah  !  Mr.  Sharpe  is  in  de  settin'  room,  an'  is  waitin' 
fur  ye." 

Tomkins  entered  at  once  ;  he  knew  the  house  well, 
having  often  been  there  both  on  business  and  pleasure. 
He  walked  straight  to  the  room  mentioned,  which  was 
large  and  airy,  the  soft  south  breezes  streaming 
in  through  the  broad  open  windows.  Sharpe  lay 
stretched  in  luxurious  ease  on  a  lounge  placed  before 
one  of  these  windows.  He  wore  a  light-colored  dress 
ing-gown  of  very  thin  but  elegant  material,  spoiled, 
however,  by  its  gaudy  trimming  ;  and  he  was  lazily 
puffing  away  at  a  highly  flavored  cigar.  On  a  center- 
table  were  a  box  of  these,  and  a  decanter  of  wine  with 
glasses. 

"  So  you  are  here  on  time,  you  sanctimonious  sin 
ner  !  "  was  his  familiar  greeting,  as  Tomkins  appeared. 


THE   SCHEMER   AND  HIS    TOOL.  275 

"  Come  in  ;  but  shut  that  door  first,  I  want  to  talk 
business." 

The  preacher  obeyed,  and  then  took  his  seat  in 
a  rocking-chair  with  the  air  of  one  who  was  perfectly 
at  home. 

"  Have  a  cigar  and  some  wine,  old  boy.  It  is  good 
stuff." 

"  I  knows  dat,"  replied  Tomkins,  with  a  grin,  and 
pouring  out  a  glassful.  "  Dat's  why  I  likes  fur  to 
come  yar,"  he  added,  smacking  his  lips  with  great  sat 
isfaction. 

Sharpe  looked  at  him  with  a  sly  twinkle  in  his  eyes, 
and  smiled  a  little  ;  then  throwing  away  his  cigar 
stump,  he  raised  himself  to  a  sitting  posture  on  the 
lounge. 

"  Well,  Tomkins,"  said  he,  "  I  suppose  you  know 
that  the  next  campaign  is  full  upon  us  ?  Northborn — 
d — n  him  ! — is  nominated,  but  we  must  stand  by  the 
party  closer  than  ever.  These  white  people  are  stirring 
up  things  lively." 

"  Pshaw  !  dey  can't  do  nuffin  but  gas.  I'd  like  ter 
see  dem  mek  any  de  niggers  wot  'tends  my  church 
vote  dere  ticket !  " 

"  What  is  Mixon  doing  in  Belleville  ?  I  saw  by  the 
paper  that  he  had  a  mass  meeting  last  week." 

"  Oh,  he's  cussin'  an'  tearin'  'round  like  mad  ;  but  de 
niggers  dey  ain't  gwine  ter  listen  ter  wot  he  say  !  " 

"  But  he  will  bulldoze  them  all  the  same.  It  will 
never  do  to  have  him  and  a  lot  of  his  men  riding  over 
the  country  in  red  shirts  and  firing  off  rifles  and  shot 
guns.  Something  must  be  done  to  stop  that  sort  of 
thing,  or  Mixon  will  have  the  county  terrorized  long 
before  the  election.  I  tell  you,  Tomkins,"  exclaimed 


276  THE   SHADOW  OF   THE   WAR. 

Sharpe,  with  a  very  confidential  air,  and  bringing  his 
hand  down  on  his  knee  emphatically,  "  I  tell  you, 
we  must  get  that  man  Mixon  out  of  the  way  !  " 

"In  course,  in  course  we  mus' ;"  answered  the 
preacher,  brimming  over  with  gratified  vanity  and  im 
portance.  "  But  ain't  we  gwine  ter  hab  'im  'rested  fur 
de  murder  ob  'Nezzar  ?  " 

The  politician  did  not  seem  to  notice  this  question, 
but  after  a  moment  or  two  of  reflection,  he  asked 
slowly : 

"  Tomkins,  would  you  like  to  be  appointed  Justice 
of  the  peace  in  Belleville  when  the  election  is  over  ? " 

"  What  ?  I  reckon  I  does  ! "  was  the  delighted 
answer. 

"  Well,  you  can  have  it ;  nothing  easier,  if  you  will 
serve  me  now." 

"  Sarve  ye  ?  Mr.  Sharpe,  how  kin  yer  talk  so  fool 
ish  like!  Ain't  I  allus  done  as  yer  said?  Ain't  I 
allus  sarve  ye  an"  de  party  ?  Don't  I  mek  de  niggers 
ob  dat  church  meet  tergedder  eb'ery  'lection  time  and 
walk  up  ter  de  poll  in  a  purcession  an'  vote  jest  as 
yer  say  ? " 

"  Yes,  you  are  a  faithful  fellow,"  answered  Sharpe, 
rising  and  refilling  Tomkins'  glass ;  "  but  this  new 
service  will  require  some  pluck  on  your  part." 

"Jest  yer  speak  de  word,  Mr.  Sharpe!  " 

"  Well,  I  will.  Suppose,  my  friend,  that  on  the  day 
after  the  lynching  you  had  found  somewhere  near  the 
lake  a  sleeve-button,  a  shirt-stud,  or  a  penknife,  be 
longing  to  Major  Mixon.  Would  not  that  fact  be  a 
strong  one  against  him  at  the  trial  ? " 

"  Golly!  I  reckon  it  would!  " 


THE   SCHEMER  AND   HIS    TOOL.  277 

"  Then  why  the  deuce  didn't  you  find  something  of 
the  kind  ? " 

The  preacher  stared  blankly.  His  mind  was  not 
quick  enough  to  grasp  immediately  the  bold  idea 
underlying  the  words  of  the  unscrupulous  politician. 

"  Tomkins,  wouldn't  you  like  to  see  Mixon  go  to 
the  penitentiary  and  be  out  of  the  way  on  election 
day  ? " 

"  In  course  I  would,"  promptly  responded  that 
worthy. 

"  He  will  go,  if  you  do  as  I  say.  We  have  not 
enough  evidence  now  to  make  the  case  a  certainty, 
and  there's  no  use  going  into  court  without  conclusive 
proof,  for  the  Supreme  Court  has  declared  that 
Phelps's  election  was  not  legal.  That's  Northborn's 
doings  again,  confound  him!  Don't  you  think  you 
could  find  something  like  a  sleeve-button  near  the 
lake?" 

"  Mebbe  ;  I  could  set  de  niggers  sarchin." 

"Pshaw!"  exclaimed  Sharpe,  with  a  gesture  of 
annoyance.  "  Pshaw!  do  you  think  you  would  find  it 
there?  No,  my  friend,  you  must  hunt  for  it  elsewhere. 
Let  me  explain.  What  women  servants  has  Mixon 
about  his  house? " 

"  Dey  has  two,  one  fur'  ter  cook  an'  wash,  an' 
t'other  ter  min'  de  chilhins." 

"  Is  either  one  a  particular  friend  of  yours?  " 

"  Laws  sakes,  Mr.  Sharpe!  Dey  all  'longs  ter  my 
church! " 

"  Yes,  you  rascal,  and  they  would  do  just  what 
their  preacher  orders!  See  here:  you  must  make  one 
of  those  women  procure  for  you  some  small  article 
belonging  to  Mixon,  and  bring  it  to  me,  without  fail, 


278  THE   SHADOW  OF   THE   WAR. 

by  day  after  to-morrow.  The  women  have  access  to 
all  parts  of  the  house,  and  it  can  easily  be  accom 
plished.  On  the  trial  I  will  expect  you  to  swear  that 
you  found  the  article  near  Lover's  Lake  the  morning 
after  the  hanging.  Do  you  understand  ?" 

"Yes,  I  does,"  answered  Tomkins,  who  at  last 
thoroughly  comprehended  the  plan  ;  "  but  it's  mighty, 
mighty  resky!  Ef  de  Major  was  fur  ter  diskiver,  he'd 
hang  me  quicker'n  he  done  "Nezzar." 

"How  could  he  discover?  There's  absolutely  no 
risk  unless  the  woman  told  the  secret,  and  would  one 
of  your  flock  betray  you  ? " 

"  Nebber  a -time!  Dey'll  do  jes'  as  I  say,  an'  keep 
dere  mouf  shet,  dat's  sure." 

"  What  danger  is  there,  then  ?  You  can  also  make 
the  woman  understand  that  she  runs  the  same  risk  ; 
and  if  you  accomplish  this  thing  you  not  only  serve 
me,  but  you  serve  the  party  and  yourself.  I  will  make 
it  my  special  business  to  have  you  appointed  justice 
after  the  election, — and  you  know  I  never  break  a 
promise." 

"All  right,  I'll  do  it.  Yer  wants  dat  sleebe-button 
by  day  after  ter-morrer  ? " 

"  Yes,  positively.  The  Democratic  County  Con 
vention  meets  to-morrow,  and  will  adjourn  some  time 
the  next  day.  Mixon  is  a  delegate,  and  is  pretty  sure 
to  be  nominated  for  something.  Don't  you  see  what  a 
splendid  stroke  it  will  be  to  have  him  arrested  just  as 
the  convention  closes?" 

"Yah!  yah!  dat  it  will!"  laughed  Tomkins,  a 
wicked  light  gleaming  in  his  crafty  eyes.  The  offer  of 
a  reward,  although  of  considerable  influence,  was  not 
the  only  motive  inducing  him  to  agree  to  the  scheme  ; 


THE   SCHEMER  AND   HIS    TOOL.  279 

the  negro  hated  Mixon  cordially,  and  he  would  have 
gladly  embraced  any  opportunity  to  pay  off  some  old 
scores  that  rankled  deep  in  his  heart,  provided  he 
incurred  no  danger;  and  this  little  plot  seemed  per 
fectly  safe. 

The  two  confederates  did  not  remain  much  longer 
in  consultation.  Sharpe  again  explained  carefully  to 
the  preacher  the  details  of  the  plan,  allaying  his  fears 
with  exquisite  tact,  and  stimulating  both  his  ambition 
and  malice  until  they  were  keenly  whetted  by  the 
prospect  of  such  speedy  gratification.  Then,  pleading 
business,  the  schemer  dismissed  the  tool  to  accomplish 
his  portion  of  the  work. 

On  the  following  evening,  a  little  after  dark,  Tom- 
kins  was  lounging  idly  near  the  front  gate  of  Mixon's 
residence  in  Belleville.  The  Major  owned  a  cottage 
in  the  town,  which  his  family  occupied  every  summer, 
to  escape  the  unhealthfulness  of  a  rice  plantation.  A 
considerable  portion  of  Mixon's  land,  that  which  had 
attracted  Mr.  Gildersleeve's  attention,  was  of  the 
"  pine  barren  "  character,  and  perfectly  healthful ;  but 
the  locality  of  the  "old  house,"  not  far  from  the  river 
and  the  rice  fields,  was  dangerous  during  the  hot 
months,  when  the  family  always  lived  in  Belleville, 
Major  Mixon  riding  down  to  the  plantation  every 
morning. 

Tomkins  had  been  standing  at  the  gate  for  a  few 
minutes,  when  he  heard  some  one  approaching  from 
the  house.  Retiring  at  once  to  a  clump  of  trees,  he 
hid  himself  until  the  identity  of  the  person  could  be 
ascertained.  The  preacher  had  a  very  good  reason  for 
this  measure.  Only  a  few  weeks  before,  Mixon,  who 
thoroughly  understood  the  man's  character,  and  who 


280  THE    SHADOW  OF    THE   WAR. 

was  not  much  given  to  moderation  in  his  dislikes,  had 
unceremoniously  hustled  Tomkins  off  his  premises, 
and  threatened  to  break  every  bone  in  his  body  if  he 
ever  caught  him  on  the  place  again.  This  was  the 
cause  of  one  of  the  numerous  grudges  which  Tomkins 
bore  Mixon ;  and  while  he  hated  him,  his  experience 
made  him  cautious.  As  soon  as  he  perceived  that  the 
coming  person  was  not  his  enemy,  he  advanced  again 
to  the  gate. 

"  Is  dat  you,  Hetty?"  he  queried  softly. 

"  Yes,  brudder,  de  ting  is  gone  done,  but  I'se  had 
an  awful  time,"  was  the  answer  from  a  rather  small 
woman. 

"'Sh!  'sh!  keep  quiet!  Let's  walk  down  de  road  a 
bit." 

Tomkins  led  the  way,  and  the  two  proceeded  some 
fifty  yards ;  then,  leaving  the  road,  they  entered  the 
bushes  for  a  little  distance. 

"  Has  yer  got  de  ting  fur  me  sure,  honey  ?  "  asked 
Tomkins,  at  last,  when  he  was  satisfied  that  they  could 
talk  in  safety. 

"  Yes,  brudder,  here  'tis.  It's  a  gold  sleebe-button, 
wid  some  kind  o'  blue  stone  in  de  middle.  Ef  it 
hadn't  been  for  you,  I  wouldn't  a'  done  it,  'cause  Miss 
Carrie  is  good  ter  we  niggers,  an'  de  ting  was  "nouf  ter 
mek  me  sick,  anyhow,"  the  woman  complained. 

"  Why,  what  de  matter  wid  yer,  Hetty  ? " 

"  Oh,  brudder,  yer  dunno  de  trouble  I  gone  fru 
wid  ter  git  dat  ting!  " 

"What  yer  mean,  'ooman?  Nobody  knows  about 
dis,  eh  ? "  asked  Tomkins,  in  some  alarm. 

"  In  course  dey  don't  ;  but  yer  see,  eber  sence  we 
talk  tergedder  last  night  I's  been  tinkin  ober  de  ting. 


THE   SCHEMER  AND  HIS    TOOL.  281 

All  day  long  I  nebber  had  no  chance.  De  Major,  he 
nebber  wear  any  sleebe-button  or  studs  onless  he's 
gwine  ter  church  or  ter  some  comp'ny,  an'  so  yer  see 
he  nebber  keeps  anyting  like  dat  'round  loose  like.  I 
knowed  he  hab  some  jew'lry,  but  Miss  Carrie  she  keep 
it  in  de  wardrobe  wid  her  tings,  an*  she  allus  locks  dat 
an'  puts  de  key  in  her  key  basket.  I  was  tinkin'  all 
day  how  fur  ter  get  inter  dat  wardrobe  !  So  after  din-- 
ner  I  gone  up  ter  Miss  Carrie's  room  an'  'gin  to  go  on 
drefful  like.  Miss  Carrie,  she  want  ter  know  what 
ailed  me.  '  Oh,  ma'am,'  says  I,  '  I'se  got  de  mully- 
grubs  jes'  fit  ter  kill  ! '  an'  den  I  holler  out  right 
smart.  '  Hetty,'  says  she,  '  I  allus  tole  yer  dat  yer  eat 
too  much  watermelyon.  Has  yer  got  any  medicine  ter 
take  ? '  '  No,  ma'am,'  says  I,  '  dat's  what  I  come  up 
fur.  Oh  !  dose  melyons  will  be  de  de't  o'  me  ! '  an' 
den  I  fall  down  on  de  flo'  an'  Miss  Carrie  was  awful 
scared.  '  Miss  Carrie,'  says  I.  '  can't  yer  gib  me  some 
o'  dat  Painkiller  yer  has  ?  It  done  de  niggers  on  de 
plantation  a  sight  o'  good  when  dey  had  de  mully- 
grubs.'  'Yes,'  says  she,  '  I  was  jes'  a'  gwine  ter  gib 
yer  some,'  an'  she  opened  de  wardrobe  an'  took  out  de 
bottle.  I  knowed  she  kep  it  dere,  an'  I  follered  her. 
So  when  she  gone  ter  de  wash  stan*  ter  pore  out  de 
dose,  I  snatched  de  sleebe-button  from  de  shelf  an' 
shove  it  in  my  bosom.  '  Here's  de  medicine,  Hetty,' 
says  she;  '  yer  mus'  tek  a  big  dose  ef  de  pain  is  so  bad.' 
'  Oh,  no,  ma'am,'  says  I,  '  I'se  sort  o'  feared  o'  strong 
medicine,  an'  dat  medicine  is  so  good  I  know  dat  a 
bery  little  will  cure  me.  '  I  tried  not  ter  tek  it  all,  but 
she  say,  '  Don't  be  a  baby,  Hetty!  '  an'  she  would  mek 
me  swallow  ebery  bit.  Den  she  say  I  mus'  go  ter  de 
kitchen  an'  sleep.  Dat  Painkiller  is  de  worstest  ting  I 


282  THE    SHADOW  OF    THE   WAR. 

eber  tasted  !  It  burned  my  whole  troat  out !  Dis  after 
noon  Miss  Carrie  come  ter  de  kitchen  an'  asks  me  how 
I  is.  I  tell  her  dat  de  medicine  done  cure  me,  an'  she 
say  she  nebber  knowed  it  ter  fail,  an'  dat  I  mus'n't  eat 
no  mo'  melyons.  Here's  de  sleebe-button,  brudder," 
ended  the  garrulous  Hetty,  handing  the  article  to  the 
preacher. 

"  Hetty,  you'se  jes'  de  spryest  'ooman  in  dis  yar 
town  !  I'se  gwine  ter  Car'llton  termorrer,  an'  I'll  bring 
yer  back  a  string  o'  mullet.'' 

"  Will  yer,  brudder  ?     Sure  yer  won't  furgit  ?  " 

"  Fur  sartin  I  will  !  But  tek  care  Hetty  ;  ef  de 
Major  knows  'bout  dis  ting,  he'll  string  we  both  up 
same  like  he  done  'Nezzar.  Ef  dey  mek  any  fuss  an' 
say  de  button  is  stole,  yer  mus'  play  possum  an'  know 
nuffin  'bout  it,  nuffin  at  all.  Mind  what  I  tole  yer  last 
night." 

"  Oh,  nebber  yer  be  feared,  brudder  ;  dey  won't 
nebber  know  whar  dat  button  is  gone." 

The  two  remained  in  conversation  some  minutes 
longer,  their  talk  being  of  a  purely  personal  nature. 
Then  they  separated,  Tomkins  going  down  the  road, 
and  Hetty  towards  the  house.  But  after  walking  a  few 
yards  the  woman  stopped  under  a  large  oak  tree. 
Kneeling  down,  she  began  to  dig  into  the  loose  sandy 
soil,  using  her  hands  and  a  stick.  Hetty  worked  briskly 
for  some  time,  until  the  hole  was  about  a  foot  deep. 
Then  she  took  from  her  bosom  something  wrapped  up 
in  a  piece  of  paper,  and  placed  it  at  the  bottom  of  the 
opening.  Throwing  back  the  earth  rapidly,  and  stamp 
ing  it  down  with  her  feet,  the  hole  was  soon  tightly 
refilled.  Finally,  the  woman  gathered  some  pine  straw 
and  scattered  it  over  the  spot. 


THE   SCHEMER   AND  HIS    TOOL.  283 

"  No  use  fur  ter  tell  de  brudder  'bout  dat,  cause 
he'd  only  scold.  I  couldn't  git  de  sleebe  button  wid- 
out  takin'  dat  too,  an"  nobody  will  eber  know  it's  bur 
ied  dere,"  Hetty  murmured  to  herself,  as  she  walked 
on  to  the  house. 


CHAPTER   XXVII. 

THE  POLITICIANS'  STROKE. 

THE  next  day — the  very  one  on  which  Tomkins 
was  to  deliver  the  sleeve-button  to  Sharpe — the 
Democratic  County  Convention  was  expected  to  con 
clude  its  labors  early  in  the  afternoon.  It  had  been  in 
session  all  of  the  previous  day,  when  most  of  its  real 
work  was  accomplished;  and  now,  in  the  closing  hours, 
the  delegates  were  engaged  upon  some  routine  matters 
connected  with  the  campaign.  As  Sharpe  had  pre 
dicted,  among  the  candidates  chosen  for  representa 
tives  were  Major  Mixon,  because  of  the  influence  he 
wielded  in  the  rural  portions  of  the  county,  and  Mau 
rice  Graham,  as  a  prominent  leader  of  the  younger 
Democracy  of  the  city.  Graham  had  in  vain  protested 
against  the  use  of  his  name.  He  urged  that  his  con 
nection  with  the  late  lynching  would  prevent  him  from 
receiving  the  negro  vote  ;  but  the  convention  insisted 
upon  the  wisdom  of  its  choice,  and  he  was  obliged  at 
last  to  accept  the  nomination.  Mixon,  on  the  con 
trary,  raised  no  objection  to  the  candidacy  ;  he  only 
smiled  a  little  when  he  heard  of  Maurice's  doubts, 
and  turning  to  a  friend  near  by,  whispered  signifi 
cantly  : 

"  I  guess  some  means  will  be  found  before  the  elec 
tion  comes  off  to  make  those  Bellevilje  niggers  forget 

(284) 


THE   POLITICIANS'    STROKE.  285 

all  about  that  lynching."  He  little  dreamed  then  of 
the  coup  d'etat  which  Sharpe  was  ready  to  spring. 

About  noon  that  day,  Mr.  Gildersleeve  was  seated 
with  Colonel  Graham  in  the  latter's  library.  Being 
more  than  ever  interested  in  political  events — that  is, 
in  watching  their  course  and  in  studying  out  the  causes 
and  principles  underlying  their  succession,  for  he  felt 
not  the  least  inclination  to  take  an  active  part — the 
Northerner  had  come  down  to  Carrollton  that  morning 
to  have  a  view  of  the  convention,  and  had  been 
taken  home  to  luncheon  by  Colonel  Graham. 

"  Mr.  Gildersleeve,"  asked  the  latter,  "  how  do  you 
stand  on  politics  just  now  ?  To  be  plain,  what  is  your 
position  ?  How  will  you  act  in  the  coming  election  ?" 

"  My  position  ?  Can  there  be  any  doubt  about  it  ? " 
returned  the  other.  "  I  am  a  straight-out  Democrat — 
at  least  so  far  as  local  politics  are  concerned.  Of  course 
I  shall  vote  the  National  Republican  ticket." 

"  Don't  you  remember  I  predicted  that  in  less  than 
a  year  your  new  standpoint  would  give  you  another 
view  of  Southern  questions  ?  I  felt  positive  that  the 
change  would  come,  and  I  am  glad  to  hear  such  a 
frank  expression." 

"  Yes,  and  I  laughed  at  your  prediction  !  I  shall 
vote  the  entire  ticket,  and  I  am  willing  to  subscribe  my 
share  toward  campaign  expenses.  But  how  about  the 
prospects  in  this  county  ?  It  seems  to  me  that  even 
an  ignorant  negro  cannot  fail  to  perceive  the  glaring 
contrast  between  the  two  tickets." 

"  The  difficulty,"  replied  Colonel  Graham,  "  does 
not  altogether  lie  in  their  lack  of  comprehension  ;  there 
are  many  negroes  in  this  very  county — which  contains 
perhaps  the  most  ignorant  class — who  thoroughly 


286  THE   SHADOW  OF   THE   WAR. 

understand  the  character  of  their  leaders.  The  black 
man,  you  know,  is  timorous  ;  and  timidity  breeds  con 
servatism.  He  remembers  that  Democracy  was  iden 
tified  with  his  slavery,  and,  so  far  as  he  can  see,  Radical 
ism  has  given  him  his  citizenship  of  the  present.  How 
natural,  then,  that  he  should  imagine  danger  to  him 
self  from  a  return  to  power  of  the  party  that  he  has 
every  reason  to  remember  bitterly  !  " 

"  But  can  they  not  be  given  a  better  understanding 
of  the  situation  ?  Is  there  no  way  of  forcing  upon 
them  the  truth,  that  the  issues  of  to-day  are  very  dif 
ferent  from  those  of  ten  years  ago  ?  " 

"  In  that  lies  our  only  hope  ;  but  to  accomplish  such 
a  result  is  very  difficult,"  replied  Colonel  Graham. 
"  The  negro's  past  experience  is  a  powerful  argument 
against  us,  and  the  men  who  run  this  Radical  party  do 
not  scruple  to  teach  them  anything  that  serves  their 
purposes.  Our  greatest  trouble  is  in  reaching  the 
masses  and  counteracting  the  influences  which  bind 
them  together  as  a  solid  unit.  They  do  not  read,  so 
the  assistance  of  the  press  is  lost.  The  North  con 
tinually  declaims  and  weeps  about  the  bulldozing 
which  the  poor  negro  endures  at  the  hands  of  the 
white  man  ;  but.  in  truth,  no  tyranny  can  be  much 
worse  than  that  which  he  exerts  over  his  kind.  You 
can  scarcely  imagine  the  influence  over  his  free-will 
exercised  by  their  society,  if  such  it  be  called,  of  their 
churches,  and  their  numerous  other  organizations.  Let 
a  negro  be  even  suspected  of  favoring  Democracy,  and 
the  persecution  he  henceforth  endures  is  enough  to  try 
a  strong  character.  He  is  at  once  excommunicated 
by  his  preacher,  and  the  women  curse  and  revile  him 
as  only  negro  women  can.  Indeed,  as  you  may  have 


THE  POLITICIANS'    STROKE.  287 

witnessed,  the  abuse  of  the  women  is  something  in 
describable.  The  men  ostracize  him  and  refuse  to 
work  in  his  company,  and  he  is  lucky  if  he  receives  no 
bodily  harm  before  the  election.  I  have  even  known 
a  man  to  be  deserted  by  his  whole  family  because  the 
preacher  ordered  them  to  leave,  and  to  be  driven  from 
plantation  to  plantation  like  a  mad  dog  by  his  relatives 
and  former  friends,  until  at  last  he  was  forced  to  re 
nounce  his  heretical  opinions.  Where  can  you  find  a 
more  thorough  system  of  bulldozing,  and  one  so  diffi 
cult  of  correction  ?  Still,  the  remedy  must  be  found  ; 
on  that  hangs  our  salvation.  Here,  in  our  own  city, 
where  law  and  order  are  supposed  always  to  prevail, 
there  exists  a  black  organization — the  '  Hunkadori 
Club ' — whose  openly  avowed  purpose  is  the  intimida 
tion  of  any  of  their  race  who  may  espouse  Democracy. 
Already  a  number  of  negroes  have  been  badly  beaten 
on  the  streets." 

"  But  I  should  regard  that  fact  as  rather  encourag 
ing,"  replied  Mr.  Gildersleeve.  "  That  their  leaders 
deem  it  necessary  to  use  such  a  species  of  intimidation 
argues  a  change  of  ideas  on  the  part  of  the  blacks." 

"  So  it  does  ;  and  while  we  may  safely  conclude 
that  the  more  intelligent  among  them  view  our  cause 
favorably,  we  must  not  forget  that  the  belief  is  deeply 
rooted  among  the  ignorant  masses  that  the  contest  is 
only  a  fight  between  the  two  races/' 

"  But  what  means  have  you  of  enlightening  these 
masses  ?  " 

"We  have  two  plans,  one  of  which  I  approve  cor 
dially  ;  the  other  I  don't  condemn  exactly,  but  I  doubt 
its  success.  The  first,  of  which  you  have  perhaps 
heard,  is  simply  that  of  individual  effort ;  and  I  believe 
T 


288  THE   SHADOW  OF    THE   WAR. 

it  to  be  the  safest  and  surest  way  to  success.  The 
suggestion  has  been  made,  and  is  even  now  being  gen 
erally  adopted,  that  every  white  man  should  consider 
himself  a  special  committee  of  one,  charged  with  the 
duty  of  obtaining  secretly  at  least  one  negro  vote  and 
seeing  that  it  is  deposited  in  the  ballot-box.  We  must 
not  expect  an  open  avowal  of  our  cause,  as  very  few 
negroes  would  dare  to  publicly  acknowledge  their 
Democratic  preferences.  But  there  are  many  who  can 
be  influenced  privately,  and,  once  satisfied  that  there 
is  no  danger,  they  will  fulfil  their  promises.  If  every 
Democrat  in  the  State  should  select  his  particular  sub 
ject  and  work  upon  him  quietly  until  the  election,  we 
would  gain  in  that  way  alone  more  than  enough  votes 
to  assure  success.  I  do  not  think  all  the  routine  work 
of  political  meetings  can  exert  as  much  influence  as  is 
possible  by  this  simple  method.  Of  course,  in  ordi 
nary  times  such  a  scheme  could  only  be  termed  chi 
merical  ;  it  would  fail  because  of  a  general  lack  of 
unity.  But  when  people  are  moved  as  we  are,  when 
popular  enthusiasm  in  a  cause  is  so  intense,  this  plan 
of  individual  effort  can  not  fail  to  yield  a  wonderful 
harvest." 

"  Indeed,"  said  Mr.  Gildersleeve,  "  it  is  this  very 
enthusiasm  that  inclines  me  to  believe  in  the  success 
of  the  movement.  I  have  seen  nothing  like  it  since 
the  beginning  of  the  war.  I  look  on  every  day  with 
amazement,  to  see  how  earnest  and  united  the  entire 
white  people  are ;  and  if  I  were  not  acquainted  with 
the  actual  situation,  I  could  scarcely  understand  the 
causes.  I  myself  am  endeavoring  to  carry  out  this 
plan  of  individual  effort,  and  Pompey,  our  servant,  is 
my  subject.  I  am  determined  to  secure  his  vote ! 


THE  POLITICIANS'    STROKE,  289 

The  other  day  I  gave  him  a  long  disquisition 
on  the  iniquities  of  the  Radical  party  and  the 
necessity  for  reformation.  After  talking  for  some 
time,  and  noticing  that  the  man's  face  wore  a  rather 
blank  look,  I  asked  him  whether  he  understood  me, 
and  was  completely  taken  aback  by  his  answer:  '  I 
dunno,  boss,  fur  sartin,  but  I  'spec'  you's  cussin'  me 
an'  de  party.'  Well,  I  shall  try  him  again.  But  what 
is  this  other  plan,  of  which  you  do  not  wholly  ap 
prove  ? " 

"A  proposition  has  been  offered  in  our  executive 
committee  that  we  should  appoint  speakers  to  attend 
the  Radical  meetings  and  demand  and  compel  a  joint 
discussion  of  the  situation.  That  is  really  the  only 
way  in  which  we  can  secure  for  ourselves  a  public 
hearing  before  the  negroes,  and  contradict  the  teach 
ings  of  their  leaders  that  a  Democratic  victory  means 
for  them  a  return  to  slavery.  The  proposition  has 
been  adopted,  and  will  be  at  once  put  into  execution. 
I  hope  for  its  success,  but  I  fear  trouble.  Under  ordi 
nary  circumstances  I  would  be  unalterably  opposed  to 
the  plan,  as  I  believe  it  dangerous  to  popular  rights  to 
countenance  any  interference  with  private  meetings, 
much  less  to  sanction  downright  compulsion  of  joint 
discussions.  But  the  conditions  here  are  essentially 
different  from  those  that  usually  obtain  ;  we  are  really 
in  the  crisis  of  a  revolution,  and  if  our  salvation  is  to 
be  effected  we  must  not  scrutinize  too  closely  all  the 
means  employed.  Such  considerations  are  proper  in  a 
state  of  peace,  and  where  a  strong  and  pure  govern 
ment  rules  the  land  ;  but  I  hold  that  when  our  very 
existence  as  a  political  body  and  as  a  people  is  threat 
ened,  and  failure  means  the  absence  of  all  that  is  worth 


290  THE   SHADOW  OF    THE   WAR. 

having  in  a  government,  our  actions  must  be  measured 
by  a  more  liberal  rule.  Still,  I  should  say  that  I 
opposed  in  the  committee  this  second  plan  on  the 
ground  that  it  would  only  end  in  riot  and  bloodshed. 
It  is  scarcely  to  be  expected  that  these  Radicals  will 
submit  tamely  to  such  an  infringement  of  their  tutelage. 
But  come — our  engagement  at  the  hall  is  for  two 
o'clock,  and  it  is  near  that  time  now." 

A  few  minutes  later,  the  two  gentlemen  were  on 
their  way  to  the  convention,  as  after  the  adjournment 
Mr.  Gildersleeve  was  to  be  introduced  to  several  prom-- 
inent  leaders  of  the  party  from  other  portions  of  the 
State.  They  walked  briskly,  their  time  being  short, 
and  as  they  drew  near  the  hall,  on  turning  a  corner, 
their  attention  was  immediately  arrested  by  an  unusual 
sight  on  the  other  side  of  the  street.  The  sidewalk  was 
occupied  by  an  excited  throng  of  whites  and  blacks,  and 
the  middle  of  the  street  was  filled  with  a  mob  of  ne 
groes,  most  of  them  armed  with  clubs,  and  who  were 
shouting  and  reviling  the  Democracy.  A  few  police 
men  were  scattered  around,  some  at  the  head  of  this 
motley  procession,  which  was  moving  steadily  up  the 
street,  and  the  two  gentlemen  at  once  supposed  that  a 
disturbance  had  occurred  and  that  the  prisoners  were 
being  taken  to  the  station-house.  But  as  the  crowd 
came  nearer,  Colonel  Graham  perceived  his  son  and 
Major  Mixon  among  its  members,  together  with  some 
of  the  best  men  in  the  city.  Wondering  what  could 
have  happened,  and  what  Maurice  was  doing  there,  he 
turned  to  a  bystander  for  information. 

"  I  thought  you  knew,  Colonel,"  replied  the  man. 
"  Major  Mixon  and  Mr.  Graham  were  arrested  a  few 
minutes  ago,  as  they  came  out  of  the  hall,  on  a  charge 


THE  POLITICIANS'    STROKE.  291 

of  murder.  It  looked  for  a  time  as  if  the  niggers  would 
bring  on  a  fight  ;  but  Mr.  Graham  and  some  other 
gentlemen  quieted  the  crowd." 

"  Whom  are  they  charged  with  murdering  ? "  was 
the  breathless  inquiry. 

"  Oh,  those  Radicals  have  raked  up  that  old  lynch 
ing  scrape,  and  propose  to  make  trouble  for  our  candi 
dates  ;  but  I  reckon  they'll  find  Graham  and  Mixon 
pretty  tough  to  handle,"  answered  the  man  carelessly, 
as  he  walked  on. 

Colonel  Graham  listened  with  a  bewildered  air  to 
this  announcement.  "  In  the  name  of  Heaven,"  he 
cried,  his  voice  trembling  with  indignation,  "  what  will 
those  fellows  do  next  ?  They  neglected  to  clear  up 
that  affair  at  the  time,  and  now,  when  the  campaign 
grows  hot,  no  outrage  is  beyond  their  audacity  !  Good 
bye,  Mr.  Gildersleeve,  I  must  see  Maurice." 

With  these  words,  Colonel  Graham  left  his  aston 
ished  friend  and  hastily  crossed  the  street.  Forcing 
himself  through  the  crowd,  he  approached  his  son,  who 
walked  between  two  negro  constables,  Major  Mixon 
being  similarly  accompanied.  As  soon  as  Maurice 
saw  his  father,  he  stopped  and  said  : 

"We  are  going  to  the  office  of  the  justice,  sir. 
Gravoir  knows  all  about  this  affair,  and  will  attend  to 
everything.  It  is  only  a  political  trick,  done  for  effect; 
so  don't  worry  yourself,  father." 

"  Come  on,  Mr.  Graham,  I  have  no  time  to  lose," 
roughly  ejaculated  one  of  the  constables. 

"  A  candidate  must  expect  such  annoyances  !  " 
laughed  Maurice,  as  he  obeyed.  But  his  laugh,  though 
light,  was  affected,  and  in  his  heart  there  burned  a 
fierce  temptation  to  strike  out  on  either  side  and  spin 


292  THE   SHADOW  OF   THE   WAR. 

these  two  negroes  over  on  the  pavement.  Major  Mixon 
had  said  not  a  word  since  his  arrest,  but  yielded  him 
self  at  once,  and  continued  to  smoke  his  cigar  tran 
quilly,  as  if  nothing  had  happened. 

"  Quite  a  distinguished  set  of  candidates  these 
Democrats  have  put  up !  "  sneered  a  familiar  voice 
close  by. 

Colonel  Graham  turned  and  saw  Sharpe  leaning  on 
a  tree-box  and  wearing  his  usual  sarcastic  smile.  At 
that  moment  some  negroes  took  up  the  cry  :  "  'Rah  fur 
Mixon  an'  Graham,  de  Dimicrat  murderers !  "  and 
during  a  minute  or  so  the  street  resounded  with  the 
shouts  of  the  mob. 

Without  noticing  these  insults,  although  they  sank 
deep  into  his  sensitive  nature,  Colonel  Graham  joined 
some  of  the  white  men  in  the  crowd,  and  together  they 
walked  on  to  the  office  of  the  justice  of  the  peace. 

The  preliminary  examination  of  the  accused  was 
immediately  begun.  The  evidence  submitted  was  very 
meagre,  consisting  mainly  of  that  elicited  at  the  in 
quest,  together  with  the  additional  testimony  of  a 
negro  who  swore  that  Mixon  was  not  at  home  during 
the  first  part  of  the  night  on  which  the  lynching  was 
committed.  Mr.  Gravoir,  for  the  defence,  made  a 
strenuous  effort  to  have  the  case  dismissed,  but  evi 
dently  to  no  purpose  ;  and  the  examination  was  almost 
concluded,  when  Mr.  Gildersleeve  entered,  having  with 
great  difficulty  forced  his  way  through  the  dense  crowd 
around  the  entrance.  Mentioning  that  he  wished  to  see 
Mr.  Gravoir  in  connection  with  the  case,  the  constable 
who  stood  guard  at  the  door  allowed  him  to  enter. 

"  Mr.  Gravoir,"  said  he,  calling  the  attorney  to  one 
side  and  speaking  in  a  low  tone,  "  you  are  at  liberty  to 


THE  POLITICIANS'    STROKE.  293 

use  my  daughter's  testimony  whenever  you  see  fit. 
Of  course,  this  court  is  not  the  pleasantest  place  in  the 
world  for  a  lady,  but  she  will  be  delighted  to  assist  in 
clearing  an  innocent  man." 

"  My  dear  sir,"  returned  Gravoir,  "  that  testimony 
is  the  last  thing  we  want.  They  have  not  a  particle  of 
evidence  that  will  hold  water,  and  any  but  a  partisan 
court  would  dismiss  the  case  at  once.  Graham  is  in 
no  danger." 

"  But  he  would  be  discharged  at  once  on  this  evi 
dence,  and  spared  much  annoyance." 

"  I  doubt  that  exceedingly  ;  and  it  would  be  sure 
to  give  these  scoundrels  a  better  grip  on  Mixon.  I 
can't  afford  to  benefit  the  one  at  the  expense  of  the 
other.  This  is  not  an  endeavor  to  promote  justice — it 
is  a  political  prosecution,  entered  upon  for  party  pur 
poses.  It  will  never  do,  sir,  to  lay  that  much  material 
before  an  ignorant  negro  jury !  We  must  wait  until 
the  trial  comes  off,  and  then,  if  you  think  that  the 
ends  of  justice,  not  those  of  some  infamous  politicians, 
will  be  subserved,  I  shan't  object  to  the  introduction  of 
that  testimony.  But  it  will  never  do  to  bring  it  out 
now !  " 

As  this  view  seemed  reasonable,  Mr.  Gildersleeve 
at  once  acquiesced.  The  examination  continued,  and 
was  shortly  concluded.  The  justice  committed  both 
prisoners  to  jail. 

Three  hours  later,  on  a  hastily  issued  writ  of  habeas 
corpus,  the  prisoners  appeared  before  the  circuit  judge 
in  chambers.  The  testimony  was  reviewed,  and  the 
accused  were  promptly  ordered  to  be  discharged  on 
bail,  Mixon  in  the  sum  of  ten  thousand  dollars,  and 


294  THE   SHADOW  OF   THE   WAR. 

five  thousand  for  Graham,  which  bail  was  immediately 
furnished. 

Hortense  Gildersleeve  was  in  Carrollton  one  day  of 
the  following  week,  and  met  Mr.  Gravoir  on  the  street; 
in  fact,  knowing  his  hour  for  dinner,  she  had  taken 
some  pains  to  contrive  the  meeting.  She  stopped  him 
at  once. 

"  Isn't  it  queer  that  you  lawyers,  whose  duty  it  is  to 
see  that  justice  is  done,  should  allow  an  innocent  man 
to  suffer  ?  " 

"  I  suppose  you  refer  to  Maurice  Graham  as  the 
martyr,"  laughed  Gravoir.  "  I  thought  your  father 
would  explain  to  you  my  reasons." 

"  Oh,  I  have  heard  them,  and  I  suppose  what  you 
have  done  is  the  strictly  legal  thing.  But  to  have  an 
accusation  like  that  hanging  over  one's  head  !  It  is 
simply  horrible  !  Don't  you  think  so,  Mr.  Gravoir  ? " 

"  It  is  unfortunate,  for  the  delay  and  annoyance  it 
will  cause,  of  course  ;  but  I  also  think,"  slyly  con 
tinued  the  astute  lawyer,  "  that  my  partner  is  very 
lucky  in  having  gained  the  interest  of  so  charming  a 
lady." 

Hortense's  face  turned  red  in  an  instant ;  and  as 
she  felt  the  crimson  tide  shoot  up  to  her  very  brows, 
she  lost  her  self-control  completely,  and  did  the  most 
foolish  thing  possible.  With  a  hasty  bow,  she  turned 
and  was  gone,  leaving  the  astonished  lawyer  to  won 
der  if  he  had  wounded  her  feelings  by  perchance  hitting 
the  truth.  Never  again  did  Hortense  approach  him 
on  that  subject. 


CHAPTER    XXVIII. 

A  TERRIBLE  OCCURRENCE. 

ONE  day  toward  the  close  of  August,  about  three 
weeks  after  the  arrest  of  Mixon  and  Graham, 
the  people  of  Belleville  were  all  in  a  flurry.  For  a 
week  the  Radicals  had  been  advertising  a  mass  meet 
ing,  to  be  held  near  the  town  on  this  day,  and  their 
leaders  had  been  notified  that  the  Democrats  would 
also  send  speakers  to  address  the  negroes  ;  in  other 
words,  they  had  been  politely  informed  that  the  Demo 
crats  proposed  to  look  after  their  own  interests. 

In  pursuance  of  the  policy  which  had  been  adopted 
by  the  reform  party,  these  joint  discussions  had 
become  quite  frequent  throughout  the  State,  and 
wherever  the  whites  were  strong,  their  conduct  was 
generally  peaceable  ;  but,  unfortunately,  in  some  local 
ities  the  meetings  were  only  scenes  of  bloodshed  and 
death.  Naturally,  the  Radical  leaders  resented  such 
interference  with  their  privileges  ;  and  when  the  move 
ment  was  first  inaugurated,  they  endeavored  to  deter 
their  opponents  by  assuming  a  hostile  attitude.  Fail 
ing  in  this,  an  effort  was  made  to  hold  meetings  secret 
ly,  concealing  the  time  and  place.  But  almost  invaria 
bly  a  large  body  of  white  men  would  suddenly  appear, 
and  their  leaders  ascend  the  platform  and  compel  the 
officers  of  the  meeting  to  present  Democratic  and 
Radical  speakers  alternately.  Indeed,  so  complete 

(295) 


296  THE   SHADOW  OF    THE    WAR. 

were  the  means  possessed  by  the  whites  fur  obtaining 
information,  and  so  indefatigable  were  they  in  execut 
ing  the  policy,  that  the  Radicals  were  soon  forced  to 
abandon  anything  like  concealment.  In  many  counties 
they  submitted  quietly  ;  but  in  others,  as  the  whites 
succeeded  in  their  efforts,  the  feeling  between  the  two 
parties  increased  in  bitterness.  The  Democrats  were 
tireless  in  their  exertions,  and  daily  the  passions  of  the 
negroes — or,  rather,  of  a  certain  class  of  them — fed  as 
they  were  by  skillful  though  unseen  hands,  became 
more  fiercely  aroused.  Especially  in  Carrollton  County 
was  the  situation  critical.  Here,  as  all  along  the  sea 
board,  where  the  negroes  largely  predominated,  and 
where  they  were  conscious  of  their  strength  when 
united,  the  proceedings  at  these  meetings  were  always 
tumultuous.  As  long  as  the  black  ranks  were  not  ser 
iously  affected,  the  unruly  negro  element  did  not 
exhibit  any  open  hostility  beyond  liberal  abuse.  But 
so  soon  as  their  cause  grew  desperate,  and  the  leaders 
realized  that  the  loss  of  votes  in  other  portions  of  the 
State  would  probably  be  heavy,  the  antagonism 
between  the  two  races  was  displayed  in  several  bloody 
encounters.  Very  recently  the  streets  of  Carrollton 
had  been  seized  one  night  by  a  mob  of  frenzied  negroes, 
who  had  been  persuaded  to  believe  that  the  whites  were 
plotting  their  wholesale  destruction  ;  and  only  the 
prompt  appearance  of  the  Rifle  Clubs  saved  many  lives 
and  much  property.  People  lived  in  a  constant  state 
of  anxiety ;  for  these  joint  discussions  commonly 
ended  in  riots,  which  some  at  the  time  believed  were 
only  the  precursors  of  a  race  war.  Both  sides  appeared 
with  arms ;  and  if  the  negroes  had  the  advantage  of 
numbers,  a  disturbance  was  sure  to  result.  Even  when 


A    TERRIBLE   OCCURRENCE.  297 

the  whites  preponderated,  their  ranks  would  naturally 
contain  some  reckless  spirits,  and  the  excitement  of  the 
times  was  so  intense  that  the  wrong  was  as  often  on 
one  side  as  the  other.  The  material  was  too  inflamma 
ble  to  be  always  controlled  by  the  more  moderate 
men. 

As  a  means  of  self-protection,  now  that  the  measure 
nad  been  undertaken,  the  whites  began  to  attend  these 
meetings  thoroughly  armed  and  in  numbers  sufficient 
to  overawe  the  negroes.  At  first  no  intimidation  was 
intended,  but  in  spite  of  the  precautions  of  many  of 
the  conservative  men,  and  mainly  because  of  the  neces 
sity  for  protection,  their  actions  soon  took  on  such  an 
appearance.  The  Radical  leaders  were  evidently  more 
than  ever  disgusted  by  this  turn  of  affairs,  and  the 
press  throughout  the  country  began  to  condemn 
severely  the  attitude  of  the  whites,  who  perceived  that 
they  were  assuming  too  much.  Owing  to  these  causes, 
a  compromise  had  been  effected  between  the  two  par 
ties  just  previous  to  this  Bejleville  meeting.  The 
Radicals  proposed  that  each  side  should  be  represented, 
but  without  arms.  Sharpe  guaranteed  the  good 
behavior  of  the  negroes,  and  asked,  as  a  pledge  on  the 
part  of  the  whites,  that  they  should  bring  no  weapons. 
As  this  seemed  a  full  accomplishment  of  their  purpose, 
the  Democrats  accepted  the  proposition  ;  and  accord 
ingly  the  two  parties  met  to-day  in  apparently  good 
faith. 

The  place  of  meeting  was  a  large  open  space  on  the 
edge  of  the  town,  about  a  mile  from  Mr.  Gildersleeve's 
residence.  The  site  had  been  used  during  the  war  as 
an  encampment.  A  hastily  constructed  platform  had 
been  erected  on  one  side  near  a  heavy  growth  of  pine 


298  THE   SHADOW  OF    THE    WAR. 

trees,  and  a  table  with  a  few  chairs,  a  bucket  of  water 
and  a  tin  cup,  completed  the  outfit.  Early  in  the 
morning  the  town  was  alive  with  negroes,  who  came  in 
from  the  surrounding  country  for  miles  ;  and  before 
the  sun  was  very  high  the  old  parade-ground  was 
swarming  with  a  mass  of  black  humanity.  About  nine 
o'clock  the  train  arrived  from  Carrollton,  bringing  the 
Democratic  speakers  and  their  escort,  to  the  number  of 
perhaps  fifty  men.  When  the  two  parties  met,  the 
whites,  reinforced  by  those  of  the  town,  amounted  to 
about  two  hundred  ;  and  there  were  at  least  six  hun 
dred  negroes  present. 

Among  the  Democratic  speakers  were  Francis  Gra- 
voir  and  Maurice  Graham.  Mr.  Gildersleeve,  in 
response  to  an  earnest  request,  occupied  a  seat  on  the 
platform.  He  had  at  first  declined  ;  but  it  being 
argued  that  because  of  his  well  -  known  Northern 
nativity,  such  a  display  of  good-will  towards  the  cause 
could  not  fail  to  impress  the  negroes,  he  consented,  and 
took  a  place  among  the  Democrats.  Maurice  Graham 
had  scarcely  arrived  when  he  noticed  a  curious  feature 
of  the  gathering.  The  negroes  were  very  orderly — 
indeed,  their  extreme  quiet  appeared  to  him  as  rather 
unnatural ;  and  instead  of  being  scattered  all  over  the 
grounds,  as  was  generally  the  case,  they  were  densely 
massed  on  one  side  of  the  stage  with  the  pine  forest  in 
their  rear,  the  whites  being  placed  towards  the  road. 
Such  unusual  disposition  of  the  blacks  seemed  singu 
lar,  as  the  two  colors  were  accustomed  to  mingle  pro 
miscuously  until  bad  temper  was  displayed.  On  the 
arrival  of  the  Democrats  to-day,  the  negroes  were 
found  arranged  in  this  compact  body,  so  that  all  inter 
mingling  was  impossible.  However,  Maurice  did  not 


A    TERRIBLE   OCCURRENCE.  299 

at  the  time  attach  any  great  importance  to  his  observa 
tion,  although  he  had  no  faith  whatever  in  the  promise 
of  Sharpe  to  maintain  order.  He  did  not  believe  these 
joint  meetings  to  be  judicious  ;  but  if  they  were  to  be 
held,  he  considered  it  mere  folly  to  entrust  the  safety 
of  the  whites  to  the  promises  of  the  Radical  leaders. 

It  was  while  in  this  frame  of  mind  that  Maurice 
met  Mixon,  and  he  called  the  latter's  attention  to  the 
arrangement  of  the  blacks,  adding :  "  Now,  if  Sharpe 
breaks  his  word,  or  is  unable  to  restrain  the  negroes, 
should  they  become  excited,  our  position  will  be  rather 
delicate  without  any  arms." 

At  this  moment  Maurice  was  called  to  take  his  seat 
on  the  stage,  and  shortly  after  Mixon  left  the  grounds, 
followed  by  several  men. 

The  meeting  was  at  last  called  to  order  by  Sharpe, 
who  proposed  Mr.  Gravoir  and  the  Rev.  Mr.  Tomkins 
as  chairmen  respectively  for  the  two  parties.  When 
quiet  had  been  restored,  Mr.  Gravoir  began  his  address 
to  the  negroes,  which  occupied  a  half-hour.  In  simple 
words  he  explained  the  situation  and  the  necessity  for 
reformation.  He  denounced  the  opposite  party,  but 
avoided  all  personalities.  He  showed  the  negroes  how 
the  State  was  being  sunk  deeper  each  year  in  degrada 
tion,  and  how  they  must  inevitably  suffer  in  the  general 
ruin.  Finally,  he  laid  bare  the  false  statements  of 
their  leaders,  that  the  Democrats  were  seeking  to  re- 
enslave  them,  and  ended  with  an  eloquent  appeal  for 
the  new  party. 

At  the  conclusion  of  his  remarks,  Mr.  Tomkins 
arose  :  "  My  cullud  bred'ren  an'  fellah-citizens  ob  de 
Tublikin  party!  We  hab  'sembled  tergeclder  dis  yar 
mornin',  jest  same  like  de  tribes  ob  Israel  done  dat  yer 


300  THE    SHADOW  OF   THE   WAR. 

hear  tell  on  in  de  Good  Book.  My  bred'ren,  we'se  got 
ter  wentilate  a  'mentous  question  dat's  a'  starin'  ye 
right  plump  in  de  eye!  Is  yer  a  honest,  true  ter  de 
backbone,  double-jinted  'Publikin,  or  is  yer  one  ob 
dem  'sneakin',  'ceitful,  slapsided  niggers  wot's  listenin' 
ter  de  voice  ob  de  debbil  as  it  purceeds  fru*  de  mouf 
ob  dese  Dimicrats?  [Sensation  among  the  whites.] 
Dat's  de  question  dat's  knockin'  at  yer  door,  nigger! 
Is  yer  gwine  let  'em  in  ?  I  mean  you,  Sam  Johnson, 
an'  you  too,  Bill  Pinetree,  an'  all  you  niggers!  [Tom- 
kins  here  gave  his  arms  a  magnificent  sweep.]  Is 
yer  standin'  close  ter  de  party  ?  Is  yer  huggin'  up  de 
party?  Is  yer  'bracing  de  party  as  chilluns  should 
'brace  dere  mudder?  My  bred'ren,  de  day  ob  retribu- 
lation  is  close  nigh  yer  ef  yer  don't  wrastle  wid  de 
enemy  wot's  sarchin'  fur  yer  heart!  Stamp  "em  down, 
my  chilluns,  fur  dey  is  mo'  pizen  ter  yer  dan  de  wile 
cat  or  de  rattlesnake!  I  asks  you  niggers,  is  yer  got 
all  de  freedom  dat  you's  'llowed  ter  hab  ?  Den  why 
does  yer  hab  ter  listen  ter  dese  white  mens  while 
dey's  cussin'  yer  party  ?  Is  dere  any  nigger  yar  wot's 
fool  'nouf  ter  b'lieve  dere  'guilin'  words?  Doesn't  yer 
know  dat  de  sarpint  is  seekin'  fur  ter  'snare  yer  agin, 
an'  kin  yer  'spec'  de  Yankees  fur  ter  help  yer  any  mo' 
when  yer  done  gone  surrender  yer  liberties?  Listen 
ter  de  words  ob  warnin',  O  my  bred'ren!  Listen  ter 
de  leaders  ob  yer  party,  O  my  chilluns!  Listen  ter 
de  preachin  ob  de  Scripture,  O  ye  sinners!  an'  tek  de 
road  wot  leads  ter  de  hebenly  blessin'!  In  de  words 
ob  Solomon,  I  say  onter  yer,  my  bred'ren :  '  My  son, 
'tend  ter  my  words;  "cline  dine  ear  onter  my  sayin's. 
Let  dem  don't  depart  from  dine  eye.  Keep  dem  in 


A    TERRIBLE    OCCURRENCE.  301 

de  kernel  ob  dine  heart.     Fur  dey  is  life  onter  dose 
wot  finds  'em,  an'  meat  an'  drink  ter  all  dere  flesh.'" 

Tomkins  stopped  to  wipe  the  profuse  perspira 
tion  from  his  face,  and  then  continued  :  "  I  hab  de 
honor  ter  interduce  ter  yer  'tention  our  'stinguished 
fellah-citizen  an'  devoted  frien'  de  Hon'able  Michael 
Sharpe.  We  hab  come  yar  dis  day  ter  listen  ter  de 
words  ob  wisdom  as  it  will  purceed  fru'  de  mouf  ob 
dat  noble  genelman.  All  you  niggers  owe  Mr.  Sharpe 
eberlastin'  gratitoode,  fur  durin'  dese  days  ob  political 
prosecution,  sence  de  day  when  de  Union  come  in, 
he  hab  stood  by  us  an'  purtected  us  in  our  freedom. 
Dat  great  an'  glorious  man,  Massa  Linkum,  de  'bidin' 
frien'  ob  de  nigger,  afore  he  was  transpired  to  Abra 
ham's  buzzom  in  de  golden  Ian',  sent  Mr.  Sharpe  an' 
de  oder  leaders  ob  de  Tublikin  party  ter  gedder  us 
tergedder  under  dere  wings  same  like  a  hen  gedders 
her  chickens  or  de  shepherd  gedders  his  sheep  in  de 
fold.  Is  dere  any  black  sheep  in  dis  yar  neighborhood 
wot  won't  listen  ter  de  shepherd  ?  Is  dere  any  nigger 
present  who  will  fly  ter  de  enemy's  camp,  'tracted  by 
de  sight  ob  gold  ?  Dere  is  sich  niggers,  my  bred'ren, 
but  we'll  treat  'em  as  de  blessed  Lord  done  dose  wot 
bought  an'  sold  in  de  Holy  Temple.  So  tek  care,  all 
you  niggers  wot  don't  want  ter  be  cast  out  ter  whar 
dere's  wailin'  an'  crashin'  ob  teeth!  Yer  mustn't  hab 
nuffin  ter  do  wid  de  Dimicrat  niggers,  'cause  dey  is 
sinners  on  de  road  ter  hell!  An'  you  'oomans,  tek 
care  dat  yer  mans  don't  'sociate  wid  de  Dimicrats,  fur 
dere  paths  is  de  paths  ob  de  wicked  an'  leadeth  ter  de 
sea  ob  destruction!  An'  now,  my  frien's,  I  will  inter- 
duse  ter  ye  de,  Hon'able  Mr.  Sharpe,  who  will  teach 
ye,  better  dan  wot  I  kin,  de  duty  ob  de  hour." 


302  THE   SHADOW  OF   THE   WAR. 

The  negroes,  particularly  the  women  on  the  out 
skirts  of  the  crowd,  hailed  Tomkins'  speech  with  great 
applause,  and  it  was  some  time  before  order  could  be 
restored.  A  few  of  the  whites  grew  rather  restive 
under  some  of  the  preacher's  remarks,  which,  indeed, 
were  bolder  than  usual.  Unfortunately,  there  were 
some  imprudent  men  among  the  Democrats,  and  a 
young  fellow,  evidently  intoxicated,  attempted  once  to 
interrupt  the  speech,  but  was  promptly  suppressed  and 
removed  from  the  grounds.  These  joint  discussions, 
being  generally  the  scenes  of  disorder  and  excitement, 
would  naturally  attract  some  of  the  rougher  white 
element  of  the  city ;  and  although  every  effort  had 
been  made  to  keep  this  class  away  from  the  meeting 
to-day,  there  were  a  few  present  who  only  needed 
encouragement  to  precipitate  a  general  row. 

Sharpe  began  his  memorable  speech  with  a  violent 
denunciation  of  the  course  pursued  by  the  Democrats 
in  intruding  themselves  on  the  meeting.  He  termed 
their  conduct  "  audacious  interference  with  the  rights 
guaranteed  by  the  Constitution,"  and  protested  against 
such  usurpation  of  authority.  He  blamed  them  for 
the  disorder  that  now  existed,  and  advised  the  negroes 
to  protect  themselves  at  all  hazards.  "  You  have 
to-day  a  weak  sample  of  what  awaits  you  if  the  Demo 
crats  return  to  power.  Means  will  be  found  to  render 
your  votes  useless,  and  the  pall  of  oppression  then 
encompassing  you  will  be  more  deadly  than  the  black 
est  slavery.  They  tell  us,  my  friends,  that  they  will 
secure  the  election  even  if  force  must  be  used.  Then 
I  tell  you,  defend  yourselves !  Your  all  is  at  stake  ! 
Have  you  not  strong  men  ?  Have  you  not  arms  ? 
Can  you  not  fight  ?  Then  I  say  unto  you,  if  the  black 


A    TERRIBLE   OCCURRENCE.  303 

man's  blood  must  flow,  let  the  white  man's  blood  color 
the  stream  !  " 

The  Democrats  listened  in  astonishment  to  this 
virulent  attack,  more  incendiary  than  any  of  the  lead 
ers  had  ever  attempted  in  their  presence.  The 
negroes  began  to  grow  visibly  excited,  and  it  was 
plain  that  some  of  the  whites  were  chafing  under  the 
steady  torrent  of  abuse.  If  Sharpe  had  purposely 
designed  to  set  aflame  the  passions  of  both  parties,  he 
could  not  have  chosen  more  effective  words.  Sud 
denly  he  abandoned  generalities,  and  launched  forth  a 
bitter  personal  attack  upon  some  of  the  Democrats 
present.  As  his  scorching  words  were  cast  right  and 
left  with  an  utter  disregard  of  truth,  the  undercurrent 
of  excitement  pervading  ,the  meeting  increased  each 
moment  in  intensity.  Sharpe  denounced  Mixon  as 
a  bloody  murderer  and  Maurice  Graham  as  his  traitor 
ous  accomplice.  In  burning  language,  well  calculated 
to  arouse  the  indignation  of  the  whites  and  to  fire  the 
negro's  excitable  nature,  he  drew  a  graphic  picture  of 
'Nezzar's  fight  for  life,  of  the  unfounded  accusation 
Mixon  and  his  gang  had  held  over  the  unfortunate 
man,  of  the  winter  in  the  forests  and  swamps,  "  a  freed- 
man  hounded  like  a  slave,  starving  and  cold,  ragged 
and  wounded,"  of  the  surrender  to  the  authorities,  and 
of  the  base  perfidy  that  had  repaid  a  trust  with  the 
halter. 

A  white  man  leaped  forward  in  front  of  the  stage  ; 
he  was  the  same  drunken  young  fellow  who  had  been 
removed  early  in  the  meeting.  "  Och  !  take  this  ye 
lying  spalpeen  !  "  he  cried,  almost  crazed  with  drink  and 
excitement ;  and  as  he  discharged  the  pistol,  an  enor 
mous  negro  who  had  been  leaning  on  the  platform 
U 


304  THE    SHADOW  OF    THE    WAR. 

felled  him  senseless  to  the  ground  with  a  single  blow 
of  a  club.  The  ball  flew  in  the  air,  hitting  no  one  ; 
but  like  magic  the  previous  ominous  silence  was  con 
verted  into  a  scene  of  the  wildest  disorder.  The  negroes 
yelled  in  fury,  and  with  the  fall  of  the  Irishman  a 
dozen  pistol  shots  were  discharged  from  their  ranks. 
Some  of  the  whites  immediately  returned  the  fire,  and 
the  negroes  rushed  upon  them  in  a  body,  more  like 
demons  than  human  beings,  and  armed  with  almost 
every  variety  of  weapon.  A  general  stampede  of  the 
unarmed  whites  ensued  down  the  road,  except  a  few 
who  formed  a  group  and  kept  a  portion  of  the  negroes 
at  bay  until  their  revolvers  were  emptied  ;  then,  several 
of  their  number  having  fallen,  they  joined  in  the  flight 
which  promised  to  end  in  massacre.  So  far,  the  attack 
was  unorganized  ;  but  as  the  last  of  the  whites  fled,  a 
hundred  negroes,  in  company  front  and  bearing  militia 
muskets,  dashed  out  from  the  pine  forest.  Crossing 
the  parade-ground  at  double-quick,  a  passage  being 
opened  for  them  as  if  by  preconcerted  agreement,  they 
hastened  in  hot  pursuit  of  the  flying  whites,  and  before 
they  had  reached  the  road,  the  heavy  reports  of  their 
guns  were  added  to  the  terrible  confusion. 

When  the  young  Irishman  appeared  in  front  of  the 
stage,  Mr.  Gravoir  sprang  up  to  order  him  removed  ; 
but  ere  the  words  had  left  his  mouth  the  mischief  was 
done.  He  then  turned  upon  Sharpe,  imploring  him 
to  restrain  the  negroes. 

"That  is  beyond  my  power  now.  Your  own  men 
are  to  blame.  Look  to  your  lives,  gentlemen  !  "  was 
the  hasty  answer,  as  the  politician  jumped  to  the 
ground  and  disappeared  with  the  other  Radical  speak 
ers  among  the  negroes.  Realizing  that  all  further 


A    TERRIBLE   OCCURRENCE,  305 

effort  to  quiet  the  mob  was  useless,  Mr.  Gravoir  turned 
to  fly,  and  with  Maurice  started  to  join  the  group 
which  was  returning  the  fire  of  the  negroes. 

"  Great  God  ! "  exclaimed  Maurice,  in  horror. 
"  There's  Mr.  Gildersleeve  !  "  Looking  back,  he  per 
ceived  that  the  Northerner  had  fallen  and  was  lying 
motionless  on  the  stage.  With  a  few  rapid  bounds, 
Maurice  was  beside  his  prostrate  friend,  and  lifting 
the  tall  but  slender  frame  in  his  strong  young  arms,  he 
leaped  from  the  platform.  As  he  reached  the  ground, 
the  weight  bore  him  down,  and  Mr.  Gildersleeve's 
gold  watch,  worn  without  a  guard,  rolled  off  a  little 
distance.  Extricating  himself,  Maurice  was  about  to 
raise  his  burden  again,  when  he  saw  a  negro  close  upon 
him  with  an  uplifted  club.  In  an  instant  he  had  drawn 
his  revolver,  and  as  the  weapon  swung  round  to 
descend,  he  fired.  Uttering  a  yell  of  pain,  the  man's 
arm  fell  helpless  by  his  side,  but  at  almost  the  same 
moment  he  threw  with  unerring  aim  a  half  brick  from 
the  other  hand.  Maurice  fell  back,  without  a  groan, 
alongside  his  friend.  Seizing  the  watch,  the  negro 
turned  and  sped  away  toward  the  woods. 

In  a  few  minutes  more  the  parade-ground  was  de 
serted  by  the  combatants,  the  whites  flying  precipi 
tately  down  the  road  toward  town  ;  and  there  remained 
now  only  some  unarmed  negroes,  among  whom  were  a 
few  women.  These  quickly  set  to  work  robbing 
the  dead  and  wounded,  and  otherwise  gratifying  their 
devilish  instincts.  Several  had  just  begun  to  remove 
Maurice's  clothing,  when  a  sudden  change  in  the  sounds 
down  the  road  caused  them  to  desist  in  alarm.  A 
negro  came  running  back  at  full  speed,  yelling,  "  De 
Dimicrats  is  comin'  !  "  Following  him  came  others, 


306  THE    SHADOW  OF    THE   WAR. 

and  still  more,  until  a  crowd  of  blacks  was  sweeping 
across  the  parade-ground  in  a  panic-stricken  mass. 
The  heavy  roll  of  musketry  had  ceased,  and  nearer 
each  minute  cOuld  be  heard  sharp  quick  detonations  in 
rapid  succession,  telling  of  the  approach  of  rifle 
men  ;  and  before  the  forest  had  enclosed  the  last  of 
the  negroes,  some  forty  white  men  appeared,  firing  as 
they  ran.  Major  Mixon  was  well  in  advance,  and  his 
face  wore  a  determined,  relentless  expression,  as  piti 
less  as  the  cold  gleam  of  his  Winchester.  Pursuers 
followed  pursued  among  the  pines,  and  gradually 
the  sounds  became  more  distant.  After  a  time  they 
ceased  entirely,  and  all  was  still,  save  for  the  groans  of 
wounded  men. 

The  militia  of  the  State  had  been  for  years  in  the 
hands  of  the  negroes,  and  they  or  their  white  asso 
ciates  held  every  office  from  major-general  to  corporal. 
The  whites  had  never  been  allowed  to  form  a  part  of 
this  body,  for  which,  indeed,  they  had  no  inclination  ; 
but  in  the  last  few  years  they  had  reorganized  some  of 
their  old  military  companies  under  the  name  of  "  Rifle 
Clubs,"  having  in  view  a  social  organization.  Gradu 
ally,  owing  to  the  laxity  of  the  constabulary  power, 
and  to  the  aggressiveness  of  the  negroes,  the  people 
came  to  regard  these  clubs  as  an  armed  force  which 
could  be  quickly  utilized  for  the  preservation  of  order 
in  times  of  excitement.  The  knowledge  that  the  whites 
were  prepared  for  emergencies  had  produced  a  salu 
tary  effect  upon  a  desperate  class  of  negroes.  But  in 
Carrollton,  where  the  campaign  was  under  the  control 
of  the  more  conservative  Democrats,  the  repeated  for 
bearance  of  the  whites  under  great  provocation,  and 


A    TERRIBLE   OCCURRENCE.  307 

when  the  negroes  were  completely  at  their  mercy,  had 
inspired  a  number  of  the  latter  with  contempt  for  the 
clubs.  Threats  began  to  circulate  freely  among  the 
negroes,  of  a  plan  to  break  into  the  unprotected  arm 
ories  and  seize  the  weapons.  The  clubs  at  once  sta 
tioned  a  detail  of  men  every  night  to  guard  their  prop 
erty  ;  and  thus  it  was  that  their  enemies  came  to  call 
Carrollton  "an  armed  camp." 

This  Belleville  riot  was  only  one  of  a  number  of 
such  events  which  had  occurred  in  various  portions  of 
the  State  since  the  opening  of  the  campaign,  and  in 
general  the  negroes  had  suffered  fearfully.  When 
Northborn  and  the  other  leaders  perceived  that  the 
whites  were  not  to  be  deterred  by  bloodshed,  and  that 
their  cause  was  suffering  from  the  repeated  thrashings 
the  negroes  received,  they  quickly  decided  on  another 
plan  of  action.  It  was  not  long  afterwards  before  that 
famous  Presidential  proclamation  was  issued,  com 
manding  all  those  unlawful  bodies  of  men  known  as 
"  Rifle  Clubs  "  to  disband  within  three  days  ;  and  at 
the  same  time,  instructions  were  issued  to  the  general- 
in- chief  of  the  national  forces  to  station  troops  at 
various  localities  in  the  State.  From  that  time  on, 
until  late  in  the  winter,  the  old  parade-ground  was 
again  used  as  an  encampment — this  time,  however,  by 
the  blue-coats  of  the  regular  army.  The  whites 
obeyed  the  governmental  mandate  ;  but  though  their 
uniforms  were  discarded  and  the  armories  abandoned, 
each  man  knew  where  to  find  a  rifle  and  cartridges 
should  the  necessity  arise  to  defend  his  home. 


CHAPTER  XXIX. 

AFTER  THE  COMBAT. 

WHEN  the  Democrats  had  agreed  to  the  propo 
sition  of  the  Radicals,  that  each  party  should 
attend  this  meeting  without  arms,  there  were  others 
besides  Maurice  Graham  who  distrusted  the  sincerity 
of  their  opponents,  and  who  considered  the  action  of 
their  county  committee  as  of  doubtful  propriety. 
Major  Mixon  had  carefully  watched  the  crowd  of 
negroes  that  morning,  and  long  before  his  talk  with 
Maurice  he  had  concluded  that  a  serious  difficulty  was 
anything  but  an  impossibility.  Imparting  his  suspi 
cions  only  to  a  few  friends,  he  left  the  grounds  with 
these,  as  the  meeting  opened,  and  the  party  proceeded 
to  a  distant  portion  of  the  town  where  was  situated  the 
residence  in  which  were  kept  the  arms  of  the  Belle 
ville  Rifle  Club.  A  covered  wagon  having  been  pro 
cured,  the  rifles  were  transferred  to  a  house  about  a 
half-mile  from  the  parade-ground,  without  attracting 
observation,  owing  to  the  deserted  condition  of  the 
roads.  After  placing  a  guard,  Mixon  and  his  friends 
returned  to  the  meeting,  where  they  quietly  circulated 
among  the  whites  and  informed  the  club  members  of 
the  arrangement.  When  the  disturbance  began,  there 
was  an  immediate  rush  of  these  men  down  the  road  to 
obtain  their  arms,  thus  misleading  not  only  the  negroes 
but  also  the  rest  of  the  whites.  The  violent  nature  of 

(308) 


AFTER    THE    COMBAT.  309 

Sharpe's  speech  had  caused  many  to  apprehend  trouble 
before  the  close  of  the  meeting,  and  although  the  occur 
rence  of  the  difficulty  was  sudden,  it  was  not  wholly 
unexpected.  Unarmed,  and  believing  themselves  en 
trapped,  it  needed  only  the  apparent  flight  of  some  of 
their  staunchest  men  to  throw  the  crowd  of  Democrats 
into  a  disorder  which  quickly  became  a  general  panic. 
Of  course,  it  was  some  time  before  Mixon  and  his 
men  could  procure  their  weapons,  which  gave  the  infu 
riated  negroes  opportunity  to  do  some  deadly  work  in 
the  rear  of  the  retreating  whites.  But  at  the  very 
height  of  their  exultation,  the  blacks  were  suddenly 
astonished  to  see  the  road  swarming  with  riflemen. 
Both  parties  perceived  at  once  that  a  desperate  encoun 
ter  was  inevitable,  and  each  instinctively  felt  that  the 
conflict  was  one  of  races,  and  that  on  its  issue  hung 
the  future  supremacy  of  either  side  in  this  little  town 
of  Belleville.  With  a  cheer,  such  as  some  of  them 
loved  to  call  "the  old  rebel  yell,"  the  maddened 
whites  dashed  down  from  the  crest  of  a  gently  sloping 
hill  upon  their  foes.  Shots  were  rapidly  exchanged  for 
a  few  minutes,  all  except  the  combatants  quickly  get 
ting  out  of  range.  As  the  two  parties  drew  closer,  the 
fire  of  the  whites  became  almost  continuous  ;  directed 
by  skilled  hands,  its  steady  precision  seemed  to  stun 
the  blacks,  whose  undisciplined  ranks  were  not 
long  able  to  withstand  the  fatal  effect,  and  slowly 
the  current  began  to  ebb  backwards.  For  a  time  the 
musketeers  were  deliberate  and  obstinate  in  their  re 
treat,  dodging  among  the  trees  along  the  road  and 
answering  the  fire  of  the  whites  as  fast  as  they  could 
reload.  But  the  fight  was  unequal  ;  the  muskets  of 
the  negroes  were  no  match  for  breech-loading  rifles, 


310  THE   SHADOW  OF    THE   WAR. 

and  the  flight  soon  again  became  headlong.  Never  for 
a  moment  did  Mixon  think  of  checking  his  men.  No 
ray  of  mercy  shed  its  softening  light  upon  his  smoke- 
begrimed  countenance  ;  but  yielding  to  the  intoxica 
tion  of  the  chase,  and  relentless  as  the  sleuth  hound, 
his  inflexible  purpose  was  to  avenge  the  cruel  treach 
ery  of  the  negroes  and  their  leaders.  So  with  wild 
shouts  he  led  on  his  riflemen  to  inflict  on  the  now 
defenceless  wretches  a  punishment  which  should  be 
memorable  for  years  to  come.  Into  the  forest  both 
parties  plunged,  and  only  with  exhaustion  did  the 
work  cease.  How  many  negroes  were  killed  will  never 
be  known.  Some  fifteen  of  their  dead  were  counted  ; 
but  undoubtedly  others  fell  among  the  pines,  and  owing 
to  the  negro's  secretiveness  on  such  matters,  no  relia 
ble  account  was  ever  obtained.  Perhaps  none  was 
sought.  In  the  afternoon  Mixon  graciously  allowed 
some  of  the  blacks  from  town  to  remove  their  dead 
and  wounded. 

The  casualties  among  the  whites  were  not  so  numer 
ous,  but  were  severe,  as  they  included  several  valuable 
citizens.  Six  were  killed  outright,  and  some  twenty 
odd  were  more  or  less  severely  wounded.  Among  the 
dead  was  found  an  old,  crippled,  silver-haired  gentle 
man  of  the  town,  upon  whom  no  bullet  wound  could 
be  discovered,  but  his  body,  blue  and  disfigured, 
showed  that  he  must  have  been  literally  beaten  to 
death. 

Soon  after  the  negroes  fled  before  the  riflemen,  the 
whites  in  the  rear  formed  a  relief  party  to  remove  the 
dead  and  care  for  the  wounded.  It  was  while  engaged 
in  this  work  that  some  of  the  men  saw  Mr.  Gilder- 
sleeve  sitting  under  a  tree.  At  the  very  beginning  of 


AFTER    THE   COMBAT.  311 

the  difficulty  he  had  received  a  scalp  wound  from  a 
flying  bullet,  which  laid  him  senseless  for  a  time.  Re 
covering  his  consciousness  after  Maurice  had  fallen, 
he  perceived  some  of  the  negroes  near  by ;  and 
although  he  scarcely  understood  the  situation,  his  first 
instinctive  thought  was  to  keep  quiet  and  avoid  attract 
ing  their  attention.  His  mind  becoming  clearer  and 
the  pain  in  his  head  more  acute  each  minute,  his  senses 
were  soon  aroused  into  almost  abnormal  activity.  He 
could  hear  some  negroes  narrating  their  individual 
exploits,  and  laughing  over  the  discomfiture  of  the 
whites.  To  his  intense  dismay  Mr.  Gildersleeve  heard 
a  voice  proposing  to  take  off  somebody's  clothing,  and 
he  expected  each  moment  that  violent  hands  would 
seize  his  person.  He  did  not  know  then  that  Maurice 
was  lying  so  near.  Suddenly,  while  suffering  the 
keenest  apprehension  as  to  what  would  happen  next, 
and  realizing  how  helpless  he  was  to  defend  himself, 
Mr.  Gildersleeve  became  aware  that  the  negroes  had 
been  disturbed  in  their  work.  In  a  minute  or  two 
more  he  could  hear  the  sounds  of  rapidly  running  men, 
some  of  whom,  indeed,  trampled  over  his  body.  Like 
a  mighty  storm  the  tumult  of  the  fight  again  broke 
upon  his  bewildered  'ear,  and  for  a  time  yells  and 
curses,  rifle  shots  and  burning  powder,  made  up  a  din 
as  though  hell  were  let  loose.  Lifting  his  head  slightly, 
he  perceived  that  the  negroes  were  retreating  in  wild 
disorder  before  the  whites.  When  all  was  still  again, 
he  raised  himself  into  a  sitting  posture,  and  looking 
around  he  saw  Maurice  for  the  first  time.  Almost 
forgetting  his  intense  pain  in  the  astonishment  of  the 
moment,  he  bent  over  and  examined  his  friend.  Mau 
rice  was  stretched  flat  on  his  back,  his  upturned  face 


312  THE   SHADOW  OF   THE   WAR. 

exposed  to  the  blistering  rays  of  the  sun.  A  mass  of 
clotted  blood  on  one  side  of  the  head  showed  with 
what  terrible  force  the  missile  had  been  thrown  ;  and 
except  for  the  deep  heaving  of  his  chest  in  its  strug 
gles  for  breath,  he  lay  as  one  who  was  dead.  Mr. 
Gildersleeve  was  so  shocked  at  the  pitiful  sight  that  he 
gazed  for  a  few  seconds  in  almost  stupefied  amaze 
ment.  There  was  no  one  near  to  whom  he  could  call 
for  help  ;  but  still  this  young  man  must  not  be  allowed 
to  die  if  it  were  possible  to  save  his  life.  The  North 
erner  endeavored  to  stand  up,  but  his  head  swam 
round  and  round  when  he  rose,  and  he  sank  again  to 
the  ground.  But  if  he  could  not  walk,  he  might  crawl 
to  the  road  and  see  if  he  could  discover  any  one. 
Acting  at  once  on  the  thought,  he  began  to  move 
slowly ;  but  the  pain  in  his  head  was  so  severe,  and  he 
felt  so  faint  and  thirsty,  that  his  progress  was  very 
labored,  and  it  was  while  resting  for  a  minute  in  the 
shade  of  a  tree  that  he  was  noticed  by  the  relief  party. 
The  men  quickly  supplied  him  with  water,  and  as  soon 
as  his  parched  tongue  had  been  moistened  he  directed 
them  to  Maurice. 

Of  what  followed,  Mr.  Gildersleeve  had  afterwards 
only  a  dim  recollection,  as  of  -a  painful  dream.  He 
remembered  that  the  men  brought  Maurice  into  the 
shade  under  the  tree,  and  presently  a  wagon  came 
rumbling  up  in  which  they  were  both  placed.  He  told 
the  two  men  in  charge,  one  of  whom  was  supporting 
Maurice's  head,  to  take  them  to  his  house ;  and  then 
the  rough  conveyance  started  for  the  road. 

Reaching  the  residence,  Hortense  met  the  party  at 
the  gate.  She  had  known  nothing  of  the  fight  until, 
seeing  some  white  men  flying  down  the  road,  and  hear- 


AFTER    THE   COMBAT,  313 

ing  the  distant  sounds,  her  heart  was  filled  with  a 
vague  terror.  Running  out,  she  reached  the  entrance 
just  as  Maurice  was  lifted  from  the  wagon,  and  her 
father  told  her  to  open  the  bed-room  opposite  the 
parlor  for  their  friend,  who  was  badly  wounded.  Hor- 
tense  hastened  away,  all  in  a  flutter  of  excitement  and 
horror  at  the  announcement,  and  scarcely  was  the  room 
prepared  before  the  men  entered  with  Maurice.  They 
laid  him  in  the  bed,  and  after  seeing  Mr.  Gildersleeve 
comfortable  on  the  lounge,  the  men  departed,  promis 
ing  to  send  a  doctor  as  soon  as  possible. 

When  Mr.  Gildersleeve  looked  again  at  the  young 
man  he  felt  deeply  anxious.  Maurice  was  lying  very 
quiet ;  in  fact,  dangerously  quiet,  he  thought.  His 
face  was  colorless  except  where  smeared  with  blood, 
and  he  seemed  perfectly  unconscious.  His  breathing 
was  hard,  like  a  man  snoring,  and  with  every  breath  his 
nostrils  worked  to  and  fro. 

"  What  do  you  think  ?  "  Hortense  asked,  tremu 
lously.  She  had  been  watching  her  father's  face,  and 
perhaps  in  its  expression  she  caught  some  reflection  of 
his  thoughts. 

"  I  think  our  friend's  condition  is  very  grave.  Why 
can't  they  send  a  doctor  ?  He  will  die  if  something  is 
not  done  !  " 

Hortense  had  just  finished  bathing  her  father's  face 
with  some  cool  water.  She  left  the  room,  and  shortly 
returned  with  a  fresh  bowl.  "  Perhaps  this  will  revive 
him,"  she  said,  gently  applying  the  moist  towel.  But 
Maurice  gave  no  sign  of  returning  consciousness,  and 
her  heart  sank  in  despair.  What  could  she  do  ?  Oh, 
the  bitter  helplessness  of  not  knowing  what  to  do 
when  death  is  nigh  !  How  keenly  is  such  ignorance 


314  T//E   SHADOW  OF    THE   WAR 

realized  when  only  knowledge  and  skill  can  promise 
a  return  of  love  and  life  !  Hortense  felt  almost 
overcome  by  this  sense  of  helplessness,  and  her  be 
wilderment  was  too  great  for  pain.  She  racked  her 
brain  to  no  purpose  ;  all  she  could  think  of  was  cam 
phor  water,  but  her  father  said  she  had  better  not  try 
that,  as  it  might  do  harm,  and  he  also  objected  to  the 
wine  which  she  next  suggested. 

"  Are  there  any  servants  about  the  place  ? "  Mr. 
Gildersleeve  asked. 

"  No,  they  all  went  off  after  breakfast,  and  mother 
has  been  in  bed  the  whole  morning  with  a  sick  head 
ache.  She  knows  nothing  of  this  trouble." 

"  If  I  only  had  a  servant ! "  exclaimed  her  father. 
"  There  is  no  use  waiting  for  that  doctor  ; — he  might 
not  come  before  evening,  and  Graham  may  die  in  the 
meanwhile." 

"  But  what  can  we  do  ? "  she  almost  sobbed. 

"  If  I  could  telegraph  to  Carrollton, — but  how  to 
send  the  message  to  the  office  ?  I  could  not  walk  to 
that  door." 

"  Why,  I  will  take  it,  father  !  "  she  exclaimed,  spring 
ing  up  from  the  chair  and  kneeling  by  his  side. 

"  Impossible,  dear  ;  you  might  meet  some  of  those 
negroes." 

"  Oh,  no  I  won't  !  indeed  I  won't,  father  ;  please  let 
me,  or  he  will  die!  "  she  pleaded,  half  crying.  "And 
if  he  dies  without  help,  we  will  blame  ourselves.  You 
know,"  she  continued,  speaking  very  rapidly,  "  he 
risked  his  life  for  us  once, — and  what  is  it  to  go  down 
to  the  depot  ?  If  I  meet  any  negroes  I  will  come 
straight  back." 

"  My  dear,  it  is  a  long  walk,  and  the  risk  is  too  much 


AFTER    THE   COMBAT.  315 

for  you  to  run.  Those  negroes  !  Ah  !  what  demons 
they  can  be  !  What  a  country  !  "  He  shuddered  as 
the  events  of  the  morning  swept  across  his  mind. 

"  Then  let  me  go  to  the  neighbors  and  see  if  I  can 
find  a  man  to  escort  me,"  she  persisted. 

"  Yes,  that  may  do,"  her  father  assented.  Hortense 
flew  out  of  the  room,  and  soon  returned  armed  with 
pencil  and  paper  and  a  city  directory.  A  music-book 
in  her  lap  furnished  a  writing  tablet,  and  she  awaited 
her  father's  instructions. 

"  First,  inform  Colonel  Graham " 

"  Oh,  don't  you  know  that  all  the  Grahams  have 
gone  to  New  York  for  two  weeks  ?  " 

"  I  had  forgotten.  Telegraph  to  Dr.  Marrows,  the 
surgeon,  and  tell  him  to  come  immediately,  at  any  fee 
he  wants  ;  say  that  the  road  will  furnish  a  special  train. 
Then  send  the  same  message  to  Dr.  Leigh,  your  moth 
er's  physician,  requesting  him  to  meet  Dr.  Marrows ; 
the  surgeon  will  probably  need  help.  Finally,  another 
to  the  superintendent  of  the  road,  asking  for  an  imme 
diate  engine  and  car,  at  my  expense,  to  bring  the  phy 
sicians." 

Hortense's  pencil  ran  rapidly  over  the  paper,  and 
presently  the  first  message  was  written.  "  Will  this 
do?  "  she  asked,  reading. 

"  A  terribly  long  telegram  !  But  never  mind,  go  on!" 

The  pencil  started  again,  and  in  a  short  time  all 
three  were  written.  Her  straw  sunshade  was  quickly 
obtained,  and  with  a  kiss  to  her  father  she  departed  on 
her  errand.  Hortense  went  at  once  to  the  nearest 
house,  but  there  she  found  only  some  women  who  were 
almost  terrified  out  of  their  wits  by  the  happenings  of 
the  day.  A  little  discouraged,  but  not  disheartened, 


316  THE   SHADOW  OF    THE   WAR. 

Hortense  returned  to  the  road,  where  not  a  soul  was 
in  sight.  Why  not  go  herself  ?  If  she  spent  the  time 
in  wandering  about  from  house  to  house  with  long  dis 
tances  between,  would  she  not  run  as  much  danger 
and  lose  moments  that  were  valuable  ?  She  had  never 
disobeyed  her  father  ;  but  just  now  he  was  sick  and  not 
fitted  to  judge,  while  she  was  on  the  spot  and  could 
see  no  danger.  If  there  were  any  negroes  around, 
perhaps  it  would  not  be  prudent  to  venture  too  far 
from  home.  But  the  way  was  clear,  and  yonder  lay  a 
man  who  might  die.  No,  she  would  not  delay  a  mo 
ment  ;  she  would  be  the  messenger,  and  afterwards  she 
could  beg  her  father's  pardon  if  he  were  angry  with 
her. 

She  started  at  a  rapid  pace,  and  was  soon  away  down 
the  road.  She  saw  no  one,  until  suddenly  a  white 
man  rode  out  from  the  trees  directly  across  her  path. 

"  Where  are  you  going,  Miss  Gildersleeve  ?  "  asked 
the  horseman,  whom  she  recognized  as  one  of  the  town 
citizens. 

"  Down  to  the  depot,  to  send  off  some  messages," 
was  her  answer. 

"  Well,  see  here,  Miss,  you  had  better  take  this," 
producing  a  revolver.  "  When  you  pass  through  Nig 
ger  Town,  some  of  the  people  there  might  look  ugly, 
seeing  that  you  are  alone.  I  would  offer  to  take  the 
message  for  you,  but  Major  Mixon  has  stationed  me 
here  with  peremptory  orders  to  watch  the  roads  and 
not  to  leave  this  corner  unless  I  hear  firing.  So  if  any 
nigger  troubles  you,  just  shoot  off  that  little  gun  and 
I'll  be  along." 

"  Is  the  fighting  all  over  ? "  asked  Hortense. 

"  Oh,   Lord  !   yes,  ma'am,   the  niggers  are  mighty 


AFTER    THE   COMBAT.  317 

scarce  now — I  reckon  the  whole  town  is  patrolled  by 
this  time." 

"  Can  you  tell  me  what  has  become  of  Mr.  Gravoir  ?" 

"  He  is  wounded  in  the  shoulder,  I  b'lieve.  I 

helped  to  carry  him  to  Mr.  S 's  house,  other  side 

of  town." 

Having  taken  the  pistol,  Hortense  placed  it  in  a 
pocket  of  the  loose  jacket  she  wore  ;  then,  with  thanks 
to  the  man,  she  proceeded  on  her  way.  Until  he 
stopped  her,  she  had  never  thought  of  Nigger  Town, 
which  was  a  collection  of  huts  and  shanties  on  one 
side  of  the  road  and  tenanted  by  the  vilest  portion  of 
the  negro  population.  Even  Tomkins  did  not  consider 
the  locality  respectable.  On  approaching  the  place, 
Hortense  crossed  to  the  opposite  side,  so  as  to  be  as 
far  as  possible  from  any  danger  ;  and  as  she  was  con 
gratulating  herself  that  not  a  person  was  to  be  seen, 
several  negro  women  rushed  out  from  one  of  the  huts 
and  coolly  awaited  her  coming  as  though  to  dispute  the 
passage.  The  girl  could  vaguely  imagine  some  horri 
ble  fate  if  she  should  fall  into  the  hands  of  these  vira 
goes  ;  but  her  spirit  rose  equal  to  the  occasion,  and 
never  for  a  moment  did  she  falter  in  her  purpose.  The 
telegrams  must  be  sent !  With  firmly  compressed  lips, 
her  features  becoming  drawn  almost  harshly  in  their 
expression  of  a  determined  purpose,  and  with  a  gleam 
in  her  eyes  that  had  never  been  seen  there  before,  she 
advanced  resolutely  until  within  a  few  feet  of  the 
women. 

"Get  out  of  my  way  !  "  Hortense  demanded  impe 
riously. 

"  Yer  low  white  hussy  !  we's  got  yer  now  !  We's 
gwine  ter  knock  de  sass  out'n  you!  "  screamed  the  one  in 


318  THE   SHADOW  OF    THE   WAR. 

front,  who  seemed  the  leader.  She  was  an  old  woman, 
and  on  her  wrinkled  and  greasy  features  there  played 
an  expression  of  intense  malevolence  and  brutish  stu 
pidity.  Her  dress  was  confined  about  the  waist  after 
the  plantation  fashion,  and  as  the  hag  stood  with  her 
long  bare  arms  akimbo,  regarding  the  high-bred  sensi 
tive  girl  as  some  bloodthirsty  beast  might  contemplate 
its  quivering  victim,  the  horrible  spectacle  caused  Hor- 
tense  to  shudder  as  though  she  had  seen  an  evil  spirit. 
The  woman  evidently  perceived  the  expression  of  dis 
gust  that  swept  over  her  face,  and  mistook  it  for  fear. 
She  cried  out  exultingly  : 

"  Aha  !  yer  mens  shoots  our  mens,  eh  ?  It  won't 
tek  us  niggers  long  ter  pull  out  dat  yaller  hair,  white 
gal,  an'  spile  dem  sto'  clo'es  !  "  The  other  women 
joined  in  the  laugh  which  followed  this  threat,  and 
they  taunted  her  with  various  epithets.  Hortense  hes 
itated  no  longer,  but  drawing  the  pistol  she  cocked  it 
rapidly  and  fired.  She  took  no  aim — of  that  she  never 
thought, — and  of  course  the  ball  flew  harmlessly.  To 
her  great  surprise  and  relief,  however,  the  cowardly  set 
took  to  their  heels,  flying  in  terror  at  the  first  sight  of 
the  weapon,  for  which  they  evidently  were  unprepared. 
When  the  old  hag  turned  precipitously  to  fly,  Hortense 
noticed  something  fall  from  her  person.  Advancing 
to  the  spot,  she  picked  up  the  article,  and  then  uttered 
a  little  exclamation  of  astonishment.  After  regarding 
it  curiously  for  a  few  seconds,  she  placed  it  in  her 
pocket  alongside  the  pistol,  and  was  about  to  continue 
down  the  road  when  she  heard  a  horse  coming  rapidly 
towards  her.  True  to  his  promise,  it  was  the  man  who 
had  given  her  the  pistol.  Waiting  rather  impatiently 


AFTER    THE    COMBAT.  .319 

until  he  approached,  she  briefly  explained  the  affair, 
and  hastily  resumed  her  steps. 

"  By  jolly  !  but  she's  a  plucky  un  !  "  said  the  man, 
admiringly,  as  he  watched  her  tall  figure  go  down  the 
road. 

A  walk  of  ten  minutes  more  brought  Hortense  to 
the  depot,  but  in  despair  she  saw  that  the  station- 
house  was  closed,  and  no  one  seemed  to  be  about  the 
place.  Wondering  what  to  do,  she  was  passing  around 
the  building,  when  she  heard  a  slight  noise  within. 
Immediately  going  to  the  door,  she  pounded  vigor 
ously.  A  window  was  cautiously  opened,  and  a  voice 
that  she  knew  to  be  the  clerk's  said  :  "  Wait  a  minute, 
Miss  Gildersleeve."  Presently  the  door  was  opened, 
and  the  man  explained  that  a  number  of  negroes .  had 
come  down  the  track  a  while  ago,  and  they  looked  so 
threatening  he  had  closed  up.  Delivering  the  tele 
grams  together  with  some  currency,  she  directed  them 
to  be  sent  immediately  ;  and  it  was  with  a  compara 
tively  light  heart  that  she  began  her  journey  back.  As 
she  again  passed  through  Nigger  Town  no  one  could 
be  seen  ;  but  suddenly  a  stone  whizzed  past  her  head. 
Taking  no  notice  of  this,  she  quickened  her  walk,  and 
soon  afterwards  had  the  satisfaction  of  meeting  the 
man  on  horseback.  She  at  once  returned  the  pistol. 

"  How  is  Mr.  Graham  ?  "  asked  the  man. 

"  I  fear  that  he  is  desperately  wounded,"  Hortense 
answered. 

"  I  heard  how  that  happened,"  said  he. 

"  Did  you  ?  Please  tell  me  all  about  it,"  she 
asked. 

"  You  see,  Miss,  when  the  niggers  began  to  shoot, 
every  man  had  to  look  out  for  himself  ;  we  had  no 
V 


320  THE   SHADOW  OF    THE   WAR. 

guns,  and  they  were  pouring  hot  lead  into  us  mighty 
fast.  I  was  off  for  my  rifle  at  the  very  first  jump  ;  but 
afterwards  I  heard  some  of  the  boys  telling  as  how 
your  pa  had  fallen  on  the  platform,  and  Mr.  Graham 
ran  back  and  picked  him  up  just  like  he  was  a  baby. 
Then  he  made  for  a  crowd  of  our  men,  but  some  nig 
gers  came  in  betwixt  them,  and  that  was  the  last  the 
boys  saw  of  him.  He  had  Mr.  Gildersleeve  in  his 
arms,  and  the  boys  cheered.  I  reckon  some  of  those 
niggers  laid  him  out,  'cause,  you  see,  he  couldn't  run 
fast  with  that  weight  on  him." 

Hortense  listened  to  this  recital  with  flushed  cheeks, 
and  when  the  man  had  finished  her  heart  was  beating 
loud  and  the  tears  glistened  in  her  eyes.  "  Thank  you 
for  telling  me,"  she  said,  in  a  choking  voice  ;  and  with 
out  another  word  she  hastened  on  home.  The  man 
looked  at  her  curiously  :  "  I  wish  I  hadn't  told  her 
about  his  going  back  for  her  pa.  I  guess  it  makes  her 
feel  sort  o'  bad." 

Hortense  must  have  felt  badly,  for  she  cried  a  little 
to  herself  on  the  way  back  ;  but  before  she  reached  the 
house  her  tears  were  carefully  dried.  She  found  her 
father  and  Maurice  precisely  as  she  had  left  them.  In 
a  few  words  she  explained  what  she  had  done — omit 
ting,  however,  all  mention  of  Nigger  Town  ;  and  as 
the  patrol  figured  rather  prominently  in  the  story,  her 
father  made  no  complaint. 

About  an  hour  later,  the  local  physician  arrived. 
He  examined  Maurice,  and  his  face  at  once  became 
grave.  When  told  that  a  surgeon  had  been  summoned 
from  Carrollton,  he  seemed  relieved,  and  after  dress 
ing  Mr.  Gildersleeve's  wound,  he  departed,  promising 
to  return  later  and  meet  the  city  doctors.  But  it 


AFTER    THE    COMBAT.  321 

seemed  to  Hortense  that  these  would  never  come,  and 
that  the  afternoon  dragged  on  very  slowly.  Maurice 
lay  there  on  the  bed  without  moving,  and  knowing  no 
one;  and  she  sat  out  in  the  hallway,  as  the  sight  of 
him  so  near  to  death  was  more  than  she  could  bear. 
Her  father,  having  taken  some  medicine,  was  now 
sleeping  quietly,  and  she  did  not  feel  anxious  about 
him,  as  the  doctor  said  his  wound  was  not  serious. 

About  four  o'clock,  or  less  than  three  hours  after 
the  telegrams  had  been  sent,  she  heard  the  front  gate 
open,  and  going  to  the  door  saw  that  the  physicians 
were  coming.  Of  what  followed,  of  course  she  knew 
very  little.  They  removed  her  father  to  another  room, 
and  in  response  to  her  inquiry  the  surgeon  said  that 
Maurice  had  his  skull  fractured  and  that  an  operation 
to  take  away  the  crushed  bones  must  be  performed 
immediately.  Whether  he  would  live  or  not,  they  did 
not  know  ;  but  he  was  young  and  strong,  and  certainly 
he  had  a  fair  chance.  Then  for  over  an  hour  the  doc 
tors  were  alone  in  the  room  with  closed  doors;  and  had 
it  been  ordained  that  Hortense  should  suffer  in  his  stead 
the  pain  of  the  knife,  her  anguish  could  not  have  been 
much  sharper. 

When  the  doctors  had  finished  their  work,  they  said 
that  Maurice  was  lying  easier,  and  that  they  hoped  for 
the  best ;  which  gave  Hortense  very  little  relief,  as  she 
knew  they  always  hoped.  There  was  no  need  of  her 
further  services  about  the  sick  room  that  day,  as  later 
in  the  afternoon  several  of  Maurice's  friends  came  to 
stay  over  night,  and  the  surgeon  also  declared  his  in 
tention  to  remain  until  next  morning.  Somehow  his 
presence  in  the  town  had  become  known,  and  soon 
after  his  arrival  at  the  house  his  services  were  requested 


322  THE   SHADOW  OF    THE   WAR. 

for  many  others  of  the  wounded.  So  Hortense  for  the 
evening  devoted  herself  to  her  mother  and  the  various 
household  duties,  with  her  thoughts  to  occupy  the  spare 
moments.  When  she  retired  at  night,  her  rest  was 
fitful  and  broken  by  horrid  dreams.  Once  she  dreamed 
that  a  crowd  of  screaming  negroes  were  beating  her  to 
death  because  she  would  not  marry  Maurice  Graham  ; 
and  Ernest  was  looking  down  sorrowfully  upon  her 
from  above. 


CHAPTER    XXX. 

A  SURPRISE. 

WHEN  the  conflict  was  over,  and  the  dead  had 
been  removed  and  the  wounded  were  redeiv- 
ing  attention,  the  white  men  assembled  in  the  town 
square.  A  meeting  being  hastily  organized,  several 
speeches  were  delivered  ;  some  were  violent,  others 
counseled  moderation,  but  the  burden  of  each  was  the 
necessity  for  self  -  protection  ;  and  after  a  warm  but 
short  debate,  a  committee  was  appointed  to  confer  with 
the  authorities  on  the  subject.  Either  through  threats 
or  persuasion,  the  committee  induced  the  Mayor  of  the 
town,  who  was  a  Radical,  to  appoint  Major  Mixon 
temporary  marshal,  which  responsibility  was  quickly 
accepted  by  that  gentleman,  who  had  just  returned 
from  the  chase. 

The  better  class  of  citizens  were  by  no  means  in 
favor  of  converting  the  town  into  a  camp  of  volunteer 
soldiers,  as  some  of  the  more  fiery  spirits  advocated  ; 
but  there  was  a  strong  determination  among  them  to 
take  such  measures  as  would  best  assure  the  safety  of 
life  and  property.  Mixon's  appointment  to  this  posi 
tion  gave  the  necessary  show  of  legality  to  their 
actions.  The  whites  knew  that  they  had  snatched  a 
victory  in  the  face  of — as  it  appeared  at  first — desperate 
odds  ;  but  they  scarcely  appreciated  at  the  time  how 
complete  was  the  discomfiture  of  the  blacks,  and  many 

(323) 


324  THE  SHADOW  OF   THE   WAR. 

of  the  people  actually  feared  that  the  town/would  be  laid 
in  ashes  during  the  night,  or  that  some  other  atrocity 
might  be  committed.  But  with  Mixon  in  charge,  they 
felt  themselves  safe,  and  there  were  not  a  few  who 
found  a  kind  of  comfort  in  knowing  that  the  very  ter 
ror  which  his  name  inspired  was  in  itself  a  protec 
tion. 

The  newly-made  marshal,  however,  was-  not  content 
to  wait  for  possible  contingencies.  He  immediately 
proceeded  to  police  the  town  ;  and  it  must  be  said  that 
he  made  excellent  use  of  his  power.  Patrols  were 
stationed,  saloons  closed,  and  the  excited  whites  were 
unceremoniously  dispersed  and  ordered  home.  Within 
less  than  an  hour  after  assuming  his  duties,  Mixon  had 
complete  control  of  all  the  roads,  and  the  town  was  as 
quiet  as  on  any  other  day. 

No  difficulty  again  occurred  in  Belleville  between 
the  two  races — not  even  at  the  election.  The  mastery 
of  the  whites  was  completely  established  henceforth  in 
that  locality.  The  issue  came,  forced  on  by  demagogues, 
who,  as  usual,  escaped  unharmed,  and  it  had  been 
met  by  those  who  believed  their  all  to  be  at  stake. 
Could  any  other  result  have  been  reasonably  expected  ? 
The  punishment  inflicted  on  the  unfortunate  negroes 
was  severe,  and  they  remained  thoroughly  demoralized 
during  the  rest  of  the  campaign.  Later,  the  appear 
ance  of  the  national  troops  did  for  a  time  tend  to  re 
store  their  confidence  ;  but  they  soon  abandoned  the 
new  hope,  after  discovering  that  the  sympathies  of  the 
men,  individually,  were  with  the  whites.  The  fact  that 
these  soldiers  were  mostly  Democrats — a  circumstance 
which  had  perhaps  been  overlooked  by  the  party 
managers — greatly  diminished  the  intended  effect  of 


A    SURPRISE.  325 


their  presence  upon  the  politics  of  the   South  at  this 
period. 

,  On  the  day  succeeding  the  riot,  the  little  town  of 
Belleville  was  as  orderly  as  any  well-behaved  communi 
ty.  Except  for  some  funerals,  and  the  serious  faces  of 
the  people,  no  one  would  have  imagined  from  the 
present  peaceful  appearance  of  the  roads  that  such  a 
storm  of  passion  and  revenge  had  lately  cut  its  path 
of  death  through  the  population.  Before  noon  the 
guards,  save  a  few,  were  dismissed  ;  and  gradually,  as 
the  sun  rose  higher  in  the  heavens,  the  ferment  of 
excitement  subsided,  to  leave  the  town  in  the  old 
groove  from  which  it  had  been  so  rudely  shaken.  Per 
haps  nothing  contributed  more  to  restore  and  to 
maintain  order  than  the  knowledge  that  those  forty 
odd  rifles  and  shot-guns  stood  ready  to  repeat  their 
work  whenever  the  occasion  demanded. 

Hortense  Gildersleeve  rose  that  morning  with  the 
dawn.  She  awoke  unrefreshed  from  her  troubled 
sleep,  and  for  a  few  moments  she  found  it  hard  to  dis 
tinguish  between  her  horrible  dreams  and  the  events 
of  the  past  day  ;  they  were  mingled  together  in  such 
confusion  that  she  shuddered  involuntarily  when  her 
memory  limned  forth  their  shadows  like  the  remains  of 
a  hideous  nightmare.  But  as  the  recollection  of  her 
wounded  father  and  of  their  sick  guest  swept  across 
her  mind  like  a  chilling  frost,  she  sprang  from  her 
couch  with  a  keen  realization  of  the  sorrow  and  anxiety 
she  would  have  to  bear.  Rapidly  she  made  her  toilet, 
suffering  at  the  time  a  feverish  impatience  to  be  down 
stairs  and  learn  what  changes  had  taken  place  during 
the  night.  It  was  not  possible  that  Maurice  Graham 
had  to  die  !  Must  he  give  up  his  life  when  its  joys 


326  THE  SHADOW  OF   THE   WAR. 

and  its  hopes  were  spread  out  so  temptingly,  and  before 
his  hand  could  gather  their  promised  triumphs  ?  It 
could  not,  it  could  not  be  !  "  Merciful  God  !  have 
pity  !  "  was  her  silent  prayer  ;  and  with  the  appeal  came 
hope.  Perhaps  he  might  be  better  ;  the  doctors  said 
that  he  had  a  chance.  Dr.  Marrows  was  to  return  to 
the  city  on  a  train  which  passed  the  town  before  six 
o'clock  ;  and  could  she  not  hear  from  the  surgeon 
himself  what  hopes  he  entertained  ?  Besides,  she  must 
prepare  some  breakfast  for  the  doctor,  since,  of  course, 
no  dependence  could  be  placed  on  the  servants  at  this 
time.  She  hastily  completed  her  toilet,  and  hearing 
some  one  in  the  hall,  she  went  out  and  met  Dr.  Mar 
rows,  who  was  returning  from  a  visit  to  her  father. 

"  How  are  the  patients  ?  "  was  the  question  which 
at  once  leaped  to  her  lips. 

"  Your  father  is  much  better.  He  had  a  good  night, 
and  is  now  free  from  pain." 

"  But  what  of  Mr.  Graham  ? "  she  asked,  almost 
impatiently. 

"  I  can  not  speajc  so  encouragingly  in  his  case." 

"  Is  he  worse  ? "  Hortense  grasped  the  banister  as 
a  support,  and  waited  while  the  surgeon  stroked  his 
chin  meditatively.  She  summoned  all  her  self-control, 
and  tried  hard  to  nerve  herself  to  meet  any  announce 
ment,  even  the  worst ;  for  in  those  few  moments  the 
suspense  and  the  awful  silence  of  the  hall  weighed  like 
a  millstone  about  her  heart. 

"  No,  I  can  hardly  say  he  is  worse,"  replied  Dr. 
Marrows,  speaking  very  slowly  and  deliberately.  "In 
deed,  I  might  say  that  his  condition  is  somewhat 
improved  ;  only,  I  don't  know  how  long  it  will  con 
tinue.  His  consciousness  returned  during  the  night — 


A    SURPRISE.  327 


a  very  favorable  sign  ;  but  at  present  he  is  under  the 
influence  of  medicine." 

"  You  must  be  expecting  a  change  for  the  worse," 
ventured  Hortense. 

"  Yes,  I  fear  that  a  dangerous  inflammation  will  set 
in  before  to-morrow." 

"  But  you  will  see  him  again  to-day  ?"  she  queried. 

"  Of  course  ;  I  shall  return  this  evening.  I  took 
the  liberty  last  night  to  telegraph  for  the  old  family 
servant  of  the  Grahams,  Aunt  Dinah  ;  doubtless  you 
know  her.  With  your  own  folks  sick,  you  need  some 
one  to  take  charge  of  him,  and  as  his  parents  are  away, 
I  know  of  no  more  competent  person  than  this  servant, 
who  is  an  experienced  nurse.  A  telegram  has  also 
been  sent  to  Colonel  Graham,  and  I  suppose  Maurice's 
mother,  at  least,  will  be  here  in  a  day  or  two  ;  and  until 
then,  I  think  it  would  be  more  judicious  to  decline 
help  from  outside  except  during  the  night.  The  ser 
vant  should  arrive  on  the  morning  train,  and  one  of 
the  two  gentlemen  who  are  with  him  now  will  remain 
until  she  comes." 

With  his  last  words,  the  surgeon  turned,  as  though 
he  had  finished  speaking,  and  proceeded  down  the 
stairs  to  disappear  in  the  room  where  Maurice  lay. 
Hortense  had  not  ventured  to  question  him  farther,  not 
knowing,  indeed,  what  to  ask  ;  but  she  did  not  fail  to 
appreciate  the  quiet  thoughtfulness  that  had  foreseen 
and  prepared  for  the  present  emergencies  of  their 
household.  She  followed  silently,  and  going  out  to 
the  kitchen  found  the  cook  engaged  about  her  duties 
as  usual. 

A  half-hour  later,  she  went  to  the  door  of  the  sick 
room  to  inform  Dr.  Marrows  that  his  breakfast  was 


328  THE   SHADOW  OF    THE   WAR. 

ready.  Calling  her  in,  he  pointed  out  a  small  phial  of 
medicine,  and  gave  her  a  paper  on  which  were  written 
some  instructions  that  he  desired  she  should  explain  to 
the  nurse,  and,  in  a  general  way,  see  that  they  were 
carried  out. 

The  morning  train,  by  which  she  expected  Aunt 
Dinah,  was  due  at  nine  o'clock  ;  and  a  little  after  that 
time  Hortense  was  on  the  front  piazza,  watching  for  the 
woman.  It  gave  her  great  relief  to  know  that  she  was 
coming,  for  Hortense  had  often  met  Aunt  Dinah  and 
knew  her  to  be  thoroughly  worthy  of  the  great  confi 
dence  and  respect  accorded  her  by  the  Graham  fam 
ily.  Indeed,  Aunt  Dinah  had  been  Mrs.  Graham's 
trusted  and  favorite  servant  ever  since  the  latter's  mar 
riage,  and  long  years  of  faithful  service  had  given  the 
former  slave  a  large  share  of  the  affections  of  the  fam 
ily.  Nursing  both  of  her  mistress's  children,  the  woman 
loved  them  almost  as  her  own  ;  and  it  was  with  a  pride 
as  tender  as  a  mother's  that  she  had  watched 
them  through  their  growing  years.  Devoted  to  the 
whole  family,  fully  expecting  to  live  and  die  in  their 
service,  Aunt  Dinah  could  not  at  first  understand  what 
freedom  was  when  told  that  she  was  possessed  of  the 
boon  ;  and  when  they  explained  its  meaning,  with  tears 
she  beseeched  her  master  not  to  turn  her  away  from  her 
home.  Perhaps,  had  they  done  so,  no  greater  affliction 
could  have  befallen  the  poor  creature,  whose  only  hap 
piness  lay  in  the  well-being  of  the  Graham  family.  Of 
Maurice  she  was  immensely  proud,  and  her  affection  for 
him  amounted  to  worship.  He  was,  in  her  eyes,  a 
man  without  a  fault,  and  she  fully  believed  that  no  other 
had  ever  yet  lived,  except  some  whose  lives  are 


A    SURPRISE.  329 


recorded  in  the  "  Good  Book,"  who  surpassed  her 
"  young  marsa." 

Hortense  had  not  long  to  wait,  for  in  a  few  minutes 
she  saw  the  old  woman  walking  rapidly  up  the  road. 
She  at  once  went  down  and  met  her  at  the  gate. 

"  Oh  Miss  Hortense  !  fur  de  lub  o'  God  !  tell  me,  is 
dey  done  gone  kill  my  chile  ?  "  cried  the  grief-stricken 
creature,  sobbing  with  anxiety  and  excitement. 

"  No,  Aunt  Dinah,  he  is  not  dead,  only  very  badly 
wounded." 

"  I  nebber  knowed  nuffin  'till  las'  night  dey  come 
an'  tell  me  dat  I  mus'  come  up  in  de  mornin'.  Oh 
Miss  Hortense  !  I  nebber  sleep  after  dat,  tinkin'  o' 
my  chile !  My  young  marsa,  my  beautiful  young 
marsa,  why  is  dey  done  gone  kill  yer  ?  Oh  blessed 
Jesus  !  hab  mussy  !  " 

Aunt  Dinah  leaned  against  the  fence  and  gave  way 
to  a  violent  paroxysm  of  weeping,  which  Hortense  was 
powerless  to  soothe.  She  took  the  old  woman's  hand, 
and  assured  her  that  Maurice  was  not  only  alive,  but 
that  the  doctors  had  strong  hopes  of  his  recovery. 
Very  earnestly  Hortense  gave  her  encouragement,  and 
gradually,  as  her  grief  spent  its  force,  Aunt  Dinah 
listened  to  the  cheering  words  in  which  the  girl  herself 
did  not  have  much  faith.  Then,  as  the  servant 
became  more  calm,  Hortense  explained  to  her  the 
necessity  of  restraining  her  emotion,  as  there  was  work 
to  be  done,  a  constant  unremitting  watch  to  be  kept, 
and  that  perhaps  on  their  attention  depended  Maurice's 
life.  This  last  appeal  was  quite  successful  ;  Aunt 
Dinah  seemed  at  once  to  appreciate  her  responsibility, 
and  Hortense  led  the  now  resolute  woman  into  the 
house. 


330  THE   SHADOW  OF    THE   WAR. 

During  the  morning,  a  number  of  people  called  to 
inquire  after  Maurice  and  Mr.  Gildersleeve.  Many 
offered  their  assistance ;  but  this  Hortense  gently 
declined,  according  to  the  instructions  of  the  surgeon. 
Mrs.  Gildersleeve's  indisposition  had  increased  after 
she  learned  of  the  riot  and  its  consequences,  and  her 
father  had  been  ordered  to  remain  in  bed  ;  so,  with 
three  sick  people  in  the  house,  Hortense  found  her 
time  fully  taken  up,  and  without  Aunt  Dinah's  assist 
ance  she  would  have  felt  completely  lost. 

Almost  all  day  Maurice  lay  very  quiet,  attended  by 
his  faithful  old  nurse.  Once  or  twice  he  opened  his 
eyes,  and  Aunt  Dinah  would  fain  have  persuaded  her 
self  that  he  recognized  her  ;  but  after  gazing  vacantly 
for  a  few  seconds,  he  would  lapse  again  into  his  sleep, 
or  stupor,  as  it  might  be,  and  which  Aunt  Dinah  sagely 
pronounced  as  due  to  the  medicine  ;  "  it's  keepin' 
down  de  infurmation,  ma'am." 

Near  sunset  that  afternoon,  Hortense  was  sitting  in 
an  easy  chair  beside  Maurice's  bed.  The  girl  was 
crying  quietly  to  herself.  She  was  alone  in  the  room  ; 
for  Aunt  Dinah  had  been  gone  some  minutes  to  the 
kitchen  on  an  errand.  Hortense  had  taken  from  a 
table  the  music  book  which,  on  the  day  before,  she 
had  used  as  a  writing  tablet,  and  she  again  held  it 
in  her  lap.  This  time  the  book  was  open,  and  on  the 
outspread  pages  was  written  a  waltz — a  simple  little 
thing,  but  how  powerful  in  the  memories  it  recalled  ! 
and  what  chords  of  emotion  it  stirred  within  her 
bosom  !  It  seemed  to  her  now  almost  like  a  dream,  to 
remember  that  night  when  she  had  told  Maurice 
Graham  of  her  engagement,  and  this  waltz  was  the 
same  piece  which  she  had  used  as  an  excuse  to  take 


A    SURPRISE,  331 


him  into  the  parlor.  How  strange  it  was  that  this  man 
should  cross  her  path  as  he  had  done,  at  first  uncon 
sciously,  and  yet  again  even  though  each  had  endeav 
ored  to  avoid  the  other  !  Twice  had  he  risked  his 
life  for  her  or  hers ;  and  she  could  have  once  sworn 
that — he — nay,  she  believed  that  he  still  loved  her  ! 
But  why  could  she  not  forget  him,  or  at  least  forget 
that  she  might  have  possessed  his  love  ?  Had  she  not 
told  him  that  she  was  the  affianced  of  a  good  man, 
and  that  she  had  no  love  to  return  ?  Had  she  not 
bade  him  awaken  from  his  dream,  and  had  she  not 
fought  her  utmost  to  conquer  the  rebellious  thoughts 
that  would  come  ?  And  yet,  in  spite  of  her  efforts  and 
the  teachings  of  her  conscience,  now  that  he  lay  there 
wounded  and  near  death,  the  loyalty  she  owed  another 
had  fled  to  the  winds.  The  music  book  dropped  from 
her  lap  ;  and  as  the  feelings  that  could  not  be  crushed 
grew  stronger,  the  tears  fell  faster  from  her  bowed 
head.  Suddenly  yielding  to  an  impulse  she  was  power 
less  to  resist,  the  girl  leaned  over  and  hastily  pressed 
several  quick  passionate  kisses  upon  the  unconscious 
lips.  How  her  strong  affectionate  nature  yearned 
towards  him  in  his  weakness !  How  cheerfully,  how 
joyfully  would  she  have  shared  his  suffering,  and  have 
found  pleasure  in  the  pain  it  gave  because  he  would  be 
relieved  !  Then,  sitting  back  in  the  chair  again,  with 
her  face  buried  in  her  hands  and  her  heart  torn  by  its 
storm  of  passion  and  regret  and  despair,  she  confessed 
to  herself,  for  the  first  time,  that  she  loved  this  man, 
and  him  only. 

As  she  wept  bitterly,  a  voice — how  strangely  familiar 
it  was  ! — broke  upon  the  silence  of  the  room,  which 
had  been  disturbed  for  some  seconds  only  by  the  half- 


THE   SHADOW  OF    THE    WAR. 


stifled  sobs  of  the  girl.  "  Hortense  !  Hortense  !  "  it 
said. 

She  looked  up  quickly,  like  a  startled  doe,  at  the 
sound. 

"Hortense,  don't  you  know  me?"  again  came 
from  the  figure  standing  in  the  doorway. 

She  arose  slowly,  and  carrying  one  hand  to  her 
forehead,  as  though  to  arouse  herself  from  a  slumber, 
she  steadied  her  trembling  frame  by  clutching  the 
chair  with  the  other  hand.  Everything  seemed  whirl 
ing  round ;  her  head  swam,  her  ears  rang  with  a 
thousand  noises,  her  limbs  began  to  give  way,  and 
when  the  figure  advanced  with  outstretched  hands,  she 
shrieked,  "  Oh  Ernest !  "  Then  she  tottered,  and  fell 
senseless  to  the  floor.  The  overwrought  faculties  had 
yielded  under  the  sudden  and  heavy  strain. 


CHAPTER  XXXI. 

EXPLANATIONS. 

IN  the  early  twilight  of  that  afternoon,  the  south 
ward-bound  train  had  stopped  at  the  Belleville 
station.  Among  the  few  passengers  who  alighted  on 
the  platform  was  a  tall  man  of  about  thirty  years,  en 
veloped  in  a  gray  linen  duster.  His  figure  was  large, 
full  even  to  stoutness,  but  not  corpulent ;  his  shoulders, 
broad  and  square,  suggested  a  powerful  frame  ;  and  his 
movements  were  of  that  quick  and  elastic  character 
generally  characteristic  of  the  Northerner.  In  type  he 
was  a  perfect  blonde,  and  his  clear  and  beautiful  com 
plexion  would  alone  have  entitled  its  owner  to  be  con 
sidered  good  looking.  But  there  was  an  expression  of 
jovial  honesty  about  the  full  and  regular  features,  and 
a  laughing  mischievous  light  in  the  blue  eyes,  that  told 
of  perfect  health  and  peace  with  all  the  world.  This 
man  was  Ernest  Trundon  ;  and  he  had  come  a  long 
distance,  from  Boston,  to  see  his  betrothed,  Hortense 
Gildersleeve.  He  bore  a  valise  in  one  hand,  and  after 
leaving  the  car  he  looked  around  sharply  to  take  in  his 
new  bearings  ;  then  he  walked  briskly  towards  a  negro 
who  was  seated  on  a  barrel. 

"  My  man,"  said  he,  "  do  you  know  where  Mr.  Gil 
dersleeve  lives  ? " 

"  Fur  sartin  I  does,  boss.  Wants  yer  balise  toted  ? 
I'se  de  bery  pusson  you'se  lookin*  fur,  sah." 

(333) 


334  THE   SHADOW  OF    THK   WAR. 

The  traveler  handed  over  his  baggage  along  with  a 
silver  coin,  and  bade  the  man  lead  the  way.  As  the 
two  went  up  the  sandy  road,  Trundon  proceeded  to 
interrogate  his  guide. 

"  Were  you  in  that  riot  yesterday  ? "  he  asked. 

"  'Fore  de  Lord,  boss,  I  dunno  nuffin,  nuffin  at  all 
'bout  de  fightin'  !  Bress  yer  soul,  sah,  dis  yar  nigger 
hab  too  much  respec'  fur  his  skin  !  When  I  heerd  de 
shootin'  I  run  an'  gone  hide.  I  'spec  'twas  some  ob 
dem  fool  niggers  from  de  plantations  wot  raise  de 
debbil." 

"  I  saw  by  to-day's  paper  that  Mr.  Gildersleeve  had 
been  rescued  by  a  young  man,  and  that  the  latter  was 
wounded  ;  do  you  know  if  either  was  badly  injured  ?  " 

"  I  dunno,  boss,  but  I  heerd  dat  dey  had  de  Car'll- 
ton  doctors  at  de  house  las'  night." 

When  John  Gildersleeve  was  quite  a  young  man,  he 
had  an  intimate  friend,  perhaps  the  only  one  of  his 
life.  This  friend's  name  was  Trundon,  and  the  two 
were  partners  in  a  prosperous  business.  Gildersleeve 
was  then  a  bachelor ;  and  Trundon,  after  a  short 
wedded  life,  became  a  widower  with  one  little  boy — 
Ernest.  When  the  latter  was  five  years  old,  his  father 
also  died,  leaving  the  child  under  the  guardianship  of 
his  friend.  Three  years  later,  John  Gildersleeve  mar 
ried  ;  and  ever  since  assuming  charge  of  the  boy, 
Ernest  had  been  cared  for  as  his  son.  Hortense  was 
born  when  he  was  ten  years  old,  and  for  years  the  two 
had  lived  together  in  the  same  household  as  children 
of  the  same  parents.  It  was  not  until  long  after  Ernest 
had  arrived  at  manhood,  that  sentiment  had  really  en 
tered  as  a  factor  into  their  relations,  and  for  a  short 
time  Hortense  may  perhaps  have  fancied  that  she 


EXPLANA  TIONS.  335 

loved.  Ernest  Trundon  had  always  appeared  to  her 
as  representing  the  highest  standard  of  manly  excel 
lence,  and  his  enthusiastic  and  untiring  devotion  to  her 
from  early  infancy  had  not  failed  to  win  a  large  share 
of  her  affection.  She  knew  that  her  parents  were  anx 
ious  for  the  match  ;  and  in  time  their  quiet,  scarcely 
expressed  desires,  together  with  his  unassuming  but 
persistent  wooing,  had  resulted  in  a  secret  engagement. 
Of  course,  she  loved  him  with  as  tender  a  regard  as 
any  sister  could  bestow  ;  but  whether  he  had  ever  held 
such  a  place  in  her  heart  as  only  a  lover  could  fill,  was 
another  question.  He  certainly  did  not  at  the  present 
time  ;  nor,  in  spite  of,  perhaps  because  of,  his  repeated 
entreaties,  had  she  ever  confessed  herself  to  be  in  love. 
When  Hortense  allowed  herself  to  be  persuaded  into  a 
promise  of  marriage,  it  was  her  inexperience,  together 
with  her  affection  and  high  respect  for  the  man,  her 
great  deference  for  the  wishes  of  her  parents,  and  a 
kind  of  negative  amiability,  permitting  her  to  be  easily 
influenced  where  she  saw  no  reason  for  refusal,  which 
had  caused  her  to  commit  such  an  error — one  that  she 
could  scarcely  appreciate  at  the  time,  because  marriage 
was  so  indefinite  a  thing. 

Trundon  and  his  guide  walked  very  fast,  and  they 
soon  drew  near  the  residence  of  the  Gildersleeves. 
When  the  negro  had  pointed  out  the  house  to  the 
stranger,  the  latter  relieved  him  of  the  valise,  and  dis 
missing  the  darkey,  continued  on  his  way  alone. 
Passing  rapidly  up  the  gravelly  path  which  led  through 
the  garden,  Trundon  mounted  the  steps  and  knocked 
on  the  door.  As  no  response  came,  the  rapping  was 
repeated  several  times ;  and  at  last,  impatient  at  the 
delay,  he  retraced  his  steps  to  the  garden  and  looked 
W 


336  THE   SHADOW  OF    THE   WAR. 

about  him  to  discover  if  any  person  was  within  call. 
Seeing  no  one,  he  proceeded  around  the  house  to  the 
rear,  and  at  the  back  stairway  he  met  Aunt  Dinah,  who 
was  just  returning  to  her  charge.  Expressing  his 
desire  to  be  announced  to  the  family,  he  obeyed  her 
request  to  follow,  and  when  the  two  entered  the  hall  she 
pointed  to  the  parlor  and  asked  him  to  enter.  Mis 
taking  the  opposite  room  for  the  one  mentioned,  he 
stopped  short  at  the  threshold  on  perceiving  in  the  dim 
light  a  woman  rise  and  kiss  some  one  who  lay  in  the 
bed.  Then  he  was  struck  dumb  with  amazement  when 
he  recognized  Hortense  Gildersleeve,  and  involuntarily 
her  name  escaped  his  lips.  When  she  fell,  he  sprang 
to  her  assistance,  and  raising  her  from  the  floor  he 
bore  her  to  a  lounge.  Without  knowing  how  it  hap 
pened,  he  found  the  bewildered  servant  beside  him 
with  a  bowl  of  crushed  ice,  and  by  its  use  Hortense 
soon  recovered  consciousness. 

"  It  is  I,  Hortense,"  whispered  Ernest.  "  I  have 
just  arrived,  and  thought  to  take  you  by  surprise.  I 
had  not  seen  you  for  so  long.  But  not  a  word  now," 
perceiving  that  she  wanted  to  speak.  "  Wait  until  you 
feel  stronger  ;  after  awhile,  when  you  have  rested,  we 
can  talk,  and  in  the  meantime  I  will  see  Uncle  John." 

Leaving  her  in  charge  of  the  servant,  Trundon 
withdrew  from  the  room,  and  having  been  instructed 
by  Aunt  Dinah,  he  sought  the  kitchen  to  find  another 
servant  by  whom  his  arrival  might  be  announced  to  the 
Gildersleeves.  Shortly  after,  he  was  seated  in  their 
room,  to  the  great  astonishment  and  delight  of  the  in 
valids. 

About  nine  o'clock  that  evening,  Ernest  Trundon 
was  pacing  the  sitting-room,  where  he  expected  every 


EXPLANATIONS.  337 

moment  the  coming  of  Miss  Gildersleeve.  They  had 
met  again  at  the  supper-table,  but  as  Dr.  Marrows  was 
present,  their  talk  was  confined  to  a  discussion  of  the 
late  riot  and  the  condition  of  the  two  patients.  The 
surgeon  pronounced  Maurice  no  worse,  and  Mr.  Gil 
dersleeve  was  doing  very  nicely.  Before  leaving  the 
room  after  the  meal,  Hortense  had  intimated  to  Trun- 
don  that  she  would  meet  him  later  in  the  evening  ;  and 
he  was  now  awaiting  her  pleasure.  But  he  had  not 
long  to  remain  in  suspense  ;  presently  the  door  opened 
and  she  entered. 

"Oh,  Ernest,"  said  Hortense,  drawing  her  chair 
close  to  the  one  he  had  taken,  "  I  wanted  to  speak  to 
you  so  much  ;  but  now  I  don't  know  how." 

"  But  why  trouble  yourself  to-night  ?  Why  not 
wait  until  you  are  stronger — say  to-morrow — and  this 
evening  we  can  talk  about  something  else." 

"  No,  the  matter  is  on  my  mind,  and  the  sooner  it  is 
over  the  better,"  she  answered  wearily. 

A  long  pause  ensued,  as  though  each  hesitated  to 
begin  ;  but  at  last  Ernest  broke  the  silence  that  was 
painful  to  both. 

"  I  know  what  you  would  tell  me,"  he  cried  bitterly, 
"  and  I  was  a  fool — oh,  what  a  fool  ! — to  hope  that 
such  a  thing  could  never  happen  !  You  are  in  love 
with  this  man  Graham,  whom  you  kissed  !  It  is  easy 
to  see  how  it  has  come  about  ;  he  rescued  you  from  a 
wreck,  you  have  been  thrown  together,  and  yesterday 
he  risked  his  life  to  save  your  father.  How  easy  to 
imagine  the  result  !  " 

"  Ernest,  I  pledge  you  my  honor  that  no  word  of 
love  has  ever  passed  between  us,  and  he,  he  alone, 
knows  that  I  am  engaged." 


338  THE   SHADOW  OF    THE   IV A R. 

"  Indeed  !     And  how  came  you  to  tell  him  ?  " 

Hortense  hesitated  ;  the  color  mounted  her  cheek, 
and  she  seemed  to  struggle  for  the  words  before  they 
would  come. 

"  I — I  feared — that  is — that  Mr.  Graham  might — 
might — like  me,  and  I  wished  him  to  know  that  his — that 
it  would  be — useless.  Ever  since  I  told  him  about  it  in 
strict  confidence,  we  have  avoided  each  other." 

"  But  you  love  him  all  the  same.  Answer  me  truly, 
Hortense  ;  you  owe  it  to  me.  Do  you  love  Graham  ? " 

A  long  pause,  and  then  the  answer,  "Yes,"  came 
firmly. 

"  And  how  is  it  that  you  have  never  told  me  this 
before  ? " 

"  I  never  told  myself  until  this  afternoon." 

Without  a  word  he  drew  from  his  finger  a  plain  gold 
ring,  and  threw  it  contemptuously  into  her  lap. 

"Oh,  Ernest,"  cried  she,  "how  unjust,  how  cruel 
you  are  !  When  you  besought  me  time  and  again  for 
an  engagement,  did  I  not  tell  you  always  that  I  had  no 
love  to  give  ?  And  when  at  last  I  yielded  to  your  en 
treaties,  didn't  I  make  you  understand  that  I  complied 
because  I  knew  you  so  well,  and  liked  you  better  than 
any  other  man  I  had  ever  known,  and  because  my  par 
ents  wished  so  much  that  we  should  marry?  Could  I 
foresee  then  that  some  day  my  heart  would  go  to  an 
other  ?  I  have  never  deceived  you  in  any  way  ;  and 
God  knows,"  bursting  into  tears,  "  that  I  am  as  willing 
as  ever  to  abide  by  my  promise  of  marriage." 

Scarcely  were  her  words  finished  before  the  better 
nature  of  the  man  triumphed  over  the  terrible  disap 
pointment  he  was  suffering.  In  his  heart  he  could  not 


EXPLANA  TIONS.  339 

but  acknowledge  the  truth  of  what  she  said  ;  and 
though  the  revelation  was  bitter,  his  manhood  and  the 
love  he  bore  her  came  to  the  rescue  and  made  him  just, 
made  him  even  tender. 

"  Darling,"  he  answered,  "  I  know  I  was  wrong.  I 
have  no  blame.  I  love  you  the  same  as  of  old,  as  I 
will  always  love  you  ;  but  how  could  we  marry  with 
your  heart  gone  to  another  ?  " 

''  You  wish,  then,  to  break  the  engagement  ?  " 

"  Yes  ;  after  what  I  saw  and  what  you  have  con 
fessed,  it  could  bind  us  no  longer." 

In  her  turn  she  drew  off  a  ring  and  handed  it  to 
him. 

"  Of  course,"  he  continued,  with  a  slight  return  of 
his  former  bitterness  of  tone,  "  if  Mr.  Graham  recov 
ers — that  is,  when  he  recovers,"  noticing  her  to  wince 
at  the  word  if — "  you  will  inform  him  that  you  are  re 
leased." 

"  Never  !  "  came  the  reply  instantly,  almost  with 
fierceness.  She  drew  herself  up  haughtily,  and  con 
tinued  :  "  Ernest  Trundon,  I  have  admitted  to  you 
more  than  I  would  tell  another  living  being,  because  it 
was  a  duty  I  owed.  Can  you  think  I  expose  my  heart 
for  the  pleasure  it  gives  ?  I  know  that  I  am  weak  ; 
pitifully  weak  ;  but  at  least  it  shall  never  be  said  that 
I  sought  any  man,  no  matter  how  I  might  love  him  !  " 

"  You  are  free  to  do  as  you  choose,  I  suppose,"  he 
answered  quietly,  and  somewhat  abashed  by  the  force 
with  which  her  words  were  uttered.  "  But  there  is  one 
mistake  on  your  part  that  I  would  like  to  correct 
now,  Hortense,  as  I  will  not  be  long  in  this  town,  and 
it  may  be  some  time  before  we  meet  again.  You  re- 


340  THE   SHADOW  OF   THE   WAR. 

member  my  promise  when  we  last  parted  that  I  would 
never  speculate  ?  Because  I  once  foolishly  lost  some 
money  in  that  way,  you  concluded  that  speculation  was 
my  weakness,  and  you  have  actually  fancied,  you  silly 
girl,  that  the  engagement  might  end  through  the  break 
ing  of  my  promise.  You  need  not  deny  it, — your  let 
ters  show  that  you  did,  and  your  earnestness  in  that 
matter  would  alone  acquit  you  of  wrong  now.  Last 
winter  when  I  needed  some  money — which  I  prefer  to 
borrow  of  Uncle  John  instead  of  the  banks  because 
he  lends  to  me  on  easy  terms — you  thought  at  once  that 
I  was  at  the  old  trick,  simply  because  the  sum  was 
large.  I  am  doing  an  excellent  business,  as  your 
father  knows  ;  and  1  hope  your  mind  is  now  free  of 
the  suspicion  that  I  am  a  speculator." 

"  I  am  glad  to  know  that  I  was  wrong."  Then 
as  he  rose  from  his  chair,  she  came  up  and  took  his 
hand.  "And  you  are  sure,  Ernest,"  she  asked,  plead 
ingly,  "that  you  bear  me  no  ill  will  ? " 

"  Why  should  I,  Hortense  ?  You  can't  hide  your 
impulsive  nature  from  me  under  that  habitual  reserve  ; 
I  know  you  too  well  to  ever  think  you  guilty  of  decep 
tion.  I  wanted  to  marry  you,  I  was  anxious  for  it, 
even  though  I  knew  you  did  not  love  me  ;  but  now 
that  the  other  man  has  appeared,  should  I  ?  I  was 
foolish  to  dream  that  your  large  heart  could  escape 
being  touched.  I  know  that  you  are  honest  in  your 
willingness  to  abide  by  the  engagement ;  but  I  will  not 
let  you  sacrifice  yourself,  even  if  it  is  for  me.  I  love 
you  too  much  for  that.  If  you  love  another,  marriage 
between  us  would  be  unjust  to  both  ;  and  your  parents 
would  never  consent.  Henceforth,  we  will  be,  as  we 


EXPLANA  TIONS.  341 

should  have  been  always,  only  a  brother  and  sister 
who  are  very,  very  dear  to  each  other.  Good-night." 
He  drew  her  close  to  his  side  for  a  moment,  and  kissed 
her  twice  ;  then,  taking  a  lamp  from  the  table,  he  went 
to  his  room. 


CHAPTER   XXXII. 


THE    TRIAL. 


AFTER  a  desperate  illness,  Maurice  Graham  re 
covered  completely.  For  days  the  surgeon  had 
been  unable  to  give  a  definite  opinion,  and  during  that 
terrible  period  it  seemed  to  th,e  watchers  that  his 
strength  must  yield  under  the  strain.  Has  not  almost 
everyone  witnessed  this  oft-repeated  struggle  between 
life  and  death,  where  the  sympathizing  physician 
gently  hints  that  the  family  should  prepare  for  the 
worst,  where  the  friends  and  relatives  haunt  by  day  and 
night  the  scene  of  conflict  with  disease,  while  on  their 
weary  and  anxious  faces  is  depicted  the  dread  that  lies 
in  the  heart  ?  The  cautious  tip-toed  walk,  the  low 
whispered  conversation,  the  quiet  endless  watching, 
the  frequent  visits  of  the  physician,  whose  utterances 
fall  as  from  an  oracle,  whose  slightest  expression  of 
countenance  is  noted  for  weal  or  woe, — are  not  all 
these  things  sadly  familiar  ?  The  Graham  and  Gilder- 
sleeve  families  experienced  them  during  this  time,  if 
never  before,  in  their  full  and  exhausting  reality, 
while  he  whom  they  all  loved  fought  the  fight  for 
mortal  life. 

When  ten  days  had  gone  by,  the  surgeon  announced 
that  the  worst  was  over,  and  the  tedious  convalescence 
began.  But  what  a  change  the  patient  had  under 
gone  !  It  was  difficult  to  believe  that  this  wreck,  so 

(342) 


THE    TRIAL.  343 


haggard,  wan,  and  bloodless,  was  the  strong,  robust 
fellow  of  a  few  weeks  before.  A  long  time  must  pass, 
said  the  physicians,  before  his  strength  would  be  fully 
restored  ;  and  they  advised  that  the  next  few  months 
be  spent  in  travel.  Already  had  Maurice  been  con 
sulting  with  his  father  about  the  trip  ;  and  having 
decided  on  a  tour  through  Texas  and  the  Southwest, 
he  now  looked  forward  longingly  to  the  time  when  he 
could  go. 

It  was  nearly  a  month  after  the  riot,  or  early  in 
October,  when  Maurice  Graham  was  removed  to  his 
home  in  Carrollton  ;  and  now,  two  weeks  later,  the 
day  had  come  when  he  and  Major  Mixon  were  to  be 
tried  for  the  murder  of  the  negro  'Nezzar.  Mr.  Gravoir, 
long  since  recovered  from  his  slight  wound  of  the 
shoulder,  had  endeavored  to  persuade  both  the  accused 
to  ask  for  a  continuance  of  the  case  until  the  following 
spring,  not  only  on  account  of  Maurice's  weakness, 
but  also  because  of  the  excited  condition  of  politics. 
But  to  this,  neither  would  agree.  Maurice  was  anxious 
to  have  the  matter  over,  and  be  off  on  his  trip  ;  while 
Mixon  would  scarcely  listen  to  the  proposal  of  post 
ponement.  Though  they  both  affected  to  regard  the 
coming  trial  as  a  farce,  gotten  up  to  impress  the 
negroes,  there  were  others,  Mr.  Gravoir  included,  who 
were  not  without  anxiety  as  to  the  result.  These  were 
times  of  unusual  excitement,  and  the  machinery  of 
justice  was  operated  by  the  opposing  party,  whose 
members,  driven  almost  mad  by  the  prospect  of  Demo 
cratic  success,  might  be  expected  to  vindictively  use 
all  their  powers  to  secure  a  conviction.  Mr.  Gravoir 
had  not  the  least  doubt  of  Maurice's  acquittal ; 
indeed,  if  necessary,  that  could  be  effected  through 


344  THE   SHADOW  OF   THE   WAR. 

Miss  Gildersleeve's  testimony ;  but  he  was  by  no 
means  sure  that  Mixon  would  escape.  Thoroughly 
understanding  the  man's  character,  he  believed  him  to 
have  been  connected  with  the  lynching ;  and  what 
more  probable,  Gravoir  argued  to  himself,  than  that 
these  Radicals  were  possessed  of  some  evidence 
against  him  which  they  were  purposely  keeping  back 
until  the  last  moment  ?  And  when,  a  day  or  two 
before  the  trial,  it  was  openly  reported  upon  the  streets 
that  the  attorney-general  of  the  State  would  conduct 
the  prosecution,  Gravoir  felt  sure  that  his  suspicion 
was  verified,  and  that  every  effort  would  be  made  to 
convict  a  man  prominent  among  the  Democrats. 

The  judge  on  the  bench  was  an  honest  man,  one 
who  would  permit  no  unfairness  in  matters  of  life  and 
death  ;  and  it  was  because  of  this  inconvenient  integ 
rity  that  his  party  had  endeavored  to  remove  him  and 
elevate  Phelps  to  the  office.  But  fortunately  the 
Supreme  Court  of  the  State  was  under  the  control  of 
Northborn,  who  desired  at  that  time  to  conciliate  the 
better  classes  ;  and  accordingly  the  present  judge's 
tenure  of  office  had  been  sustained  by  that  court,  while 
Phelps  was  now  industriously  canvassing  his  county  as 
a  candidate  for  reelection  to  the  legislature.  Although 
the  judge  was  reliable,  Gravior  knew  how  difficult  it 
was  to  procure  an  intelligent  and  unprejudiced  jury 
when  the  prosecution  willed  otherwise,  and  how,  in 
criminal  cases,  the  least  testimony,  whether  for  or 
against  the  prisoner,  swelled  into  huge  proportions  or 
diminished  into  nothingness,  according  to  the  political 
bearing  of  the  case.  It  was  impossible  to  know  what 
trap  these  Radicals  would  suddenly  spring ;  the  fact 
that  the  attorney-general  intended  to  take  a  hand  was 


THE    TRIAL.  345 


a  sufficient  warning  that  there  was  more  to  come  than 
the  surface  indicated  ;  and  realizing  fully  the  influ 
ences  that  would  act  upon  the  partisan  jury  before 
whom  two  Democratic  candidates  were  tried,  the 
shrewd  lawyer  experienced  considerable  anxiety  about 
the  result.  It  was  mainly  through  these  fears,  and 
because  of  the  more  intense  political  bitterness  which 
was  developing  every  day,  that  Gravoir  had  advised 
a  postponement  of  the  case.  But  in  vain  were  his 
counsels  ;  Mixon  scoffed  at  the  idea  of  danger,  which 
he  was  pleased  to  term  an  excess  of  prudence.  So  on 
this  Monday  morning  the  case  was  to  be  tried  in  the 
circuit  court. 

Long  before  the  trial  began,  the  court-room  was 
crowded  with  a  mass  of  whites  and  blacks,  eager 
to  hear  the  testimony.  The  social  and  political  posi 
tion  of  the  accused,  together  with  the  mystery  en 
veloping  the  lynching,  and  the  impression,  growing 
hourly,  that  startling  developments  might  be  expected, 
combined  to  create  a  wide-spread  interest  in  the  case. 
Conversing  with  men  of  either  color,  it  was  easy  to 
perceive  the  strong  partisan  feeling  that  prevailed — on 
the  one  side,  to  avenge  an  injury  to  one  of  their  race ; 
on  the  other,  to  protect  those  whose  interests  were  their 
own.  Perhaps  very  few  of  the  whites  believed  Mixon 
innocent  of  the  lynching  ;  but  it  was  also  their  universal 
opinion  that  'Nezzar  had  only  gotten  what  he  richly 
deserved. 

At  ten  o'clock  the  court  was  convened,  both  the 
prisoners  in  the  dock,  and  the  judge  arrayed  in  his 
flowing  black  silk  robes — a  custom  inherited  from  the 
English,  and  now  observed  in  very  few  of  the  States. 
Mixon's  red  and  sunburnt  face  was  as  impassive  as 


346  THE   SHADOW  OF   THE   WAR. 

ever,  save  for  the  half-defiant  sneer  that  would  occa 
sionally  play  across  his  features  as  he  watched  the 
crowd  of  expectant  negroes.  Maurice  Graham  was 
pale  and  thin  ;  his  eyes  seemed  larger  than  ever,  and 
to-day  they  appeared  black.  But  his  countenance  was 
cheerful,  and  ever  and  anon  he  would  glance  smilingly 
at  his  mother,  who  sat  only  a  few  feet  away. 

After  the  tipstaffs  had  exhausted  themselves  in 
crying  out,  "  Silence  een  court !  "  the  clerk  read  the 
indictment  in  the  usual  monotonous  tone  ;  then,  at  its 
close,  amid  an  awful  silence,  he  proceeded  to  interro 
gate  the  prisoners,  who  were  instructed  in  their  replies 
by  counsel. 

Clerk :  "  Louis  Mixon,  you  stand  here  a  prisoner  at 
the  bar  of  justice,  charged  with  the  murder  of  one 
Nebuchadnezzar  on  the  — th  of  May,  187 — .  What 
say  you  :  are  you  guilty  or  not  guilty  ? " 

Mixon  (very  emphatically,  and  in  a  voice  that  rang 
through  the  room):  "  Not  guilty  !  " 
Clerk :  "  How  shall  you  be  tried  ?  " 
Mixon  :  "  By  my  God  and  my  country." 
Clerk  :  "  May  God  bring  you  a  safe  deliverance." 
The  same  questions  were  asked  Maurice  Graham, 
who  returned  the  same  answers  ;  and  then  Francis  Gra- 
voir,  the  attorney  for  the  defence,  announced  that  he 
was  ready  for  trial. 

The  two  hours  succeeding  were  occupied  by  a 
seemingly  interminable  wrangle  between  the  opposing 
lawyers  over  the  choice  of  a  jury.  During  this  period 
of  misrule,  the  color  line  was  most  distinctly  drawn  in 
all  trials  of  a  political  nature  ;  and,  true  to  their  usual 
course,  the  prosecution  were  directing  their  efforts  to 
wards  obtaining  a  black  jury.  In  this,  owing  to  the 


THE    TRIAL.  347 

character  of  the  panel,  they  were  finally  successful, 
except  for  two  white  men  ;  but  the  defence  could  place 
no  reliance  on  these,  as  they  were  openly  recognized 
adherents  of  Sharpe — "  court-house  bummers,"  as  they 
were  termed.  In  vain  did  the  defence  place  the  jurors 
on  their  roir  dire,  and  ask  if  they  could  swear  that 
they  had  no  relationship  with  the  prisoners,  no  know 
ledge  of  the  case,  no  opinion  about  its  merits,  and  if 
they  knew  no  reason  why  they  could  not  render  a  just 
verdict  between  the  State  and  the  prisoners  at  the  bar. 
Perhaps  the  utter  mockery  of  such  an  oath — one  of  the 
means  by  which  Civilization  endeavors  to  regulate  its 
ministrations  of  justice — was  never  more  forcibly  ap 
parent.  In  cases  of  great  public  notoriety,  a  man  who 
can  now-a-days  take  such  an  oath  generally  pronounces 
himself  a  knave  or  a  fool,  incompetent  to  decide  upon 
grave  questions  of  guilt  or  innocence.  Some  few  res 
pectable  men  on  the  panel  were,  of  course,  unable  to 
swear  that  they  had  formed  no  opinion  ;  several  others, 
not  wholly  objectionable,  were  chosen  by  the  defence, 
only  to  be  peremptorily  ordered  aside  by  the  prosecu 
tion.  The  defence  had  exhausted  their  challenges  and 
the  panel  before  the  jury  was  formed  ;  and,  according 
to  the  iniquitous  rule  then  in  force,  the  sheriff  was  in 
structed  to  summon  other  jurors  from  the  bystanders. 
Of  course,  only  his  henchmen  were  called — the  profes 
sional  jurymen  who  stand  awaiting  just  such  chances. 
When,  finally,  the  jury  was  sworn,  and  Gravoir  had 
closely  scrutinized  them,  he  turned  and  remarked  to 
his  associate  counsel : 

"  I'm  afraid  our  only  hope  lies  in  the  judge,  and  in 
their  inability  to  make  a  clear  case." 

The  attorney-general  addressed   the   jury,  setting 


348  THE   SHADOW  OF    THE   WAR. 

forth  what  he  expected  to  prove.  He  claimed  that  a 
conspiracy  had  existed  between  a  number  of  men,  of 
whom  Mixon  and  Graham  were  the  only  ones  known, 
to  procure  the  death  of  'Nezzar  ;  and  that  through  the 
treachery  of  Graham  their  purpose  had  been  accom 
plished.  The  attorney-general  was  a  Northern  man — 
a  lawyer  of  consummate  ability,  and  of  marked  orator 
ical  powers.  Vividly  he  drew  a  picture  of  the  crime, 
of  the  insecurity  of  the  freedman's  rights,  and  in  pas 
sionate  terms  he  demanded  that  the  laws  be  enforced 
for  the  protection  of  life. 

Immediately  after  this  speech,  the  prosecution  called 
several  witnesses  whose  testimony  proved  the  facts  of 
the  lynching  as  they  had  been  developed  at  the  coro 
ner's  inquest.  The  deputy  sheriff,  and  others  of  the 
posse,  testified  that  Maurice  Graham  had  outstripped 
them  all  in  pursuit  of  an  individual  who  disappeared 
in  the  neighborhood  of  Mixon's  residence  ;  and,  finally, 
it  was  proven  that  Mixon  had  cherished  malice  against 
the  negro,  had  openly  uttered  threats  of  violence,  and 
had  even  undertaken  to  effect  his  capture  without  au 
thority.  An  endeavor  was  also  made  to  show  that 
Graham  and  Mixon  were  fast  friends,  and  were 
united  by  common  motives  ;  but  in  this  the  testimony 
was  weak,  and  gave  way  under  cross-examination. 
At  this  point,  a  recess  was  taken  for  dinner. 

When  the  court  again  assembled,  the  sheriff  was 
called  to  the  stand  ;  and  he  had  scarcely  begun  to  tell 
of  the  arrangement  he  had  made  with  Maurice  Graham, 
when  the  quiet  of  the  room  was  disturbed  by  a  bustle 
at  one  of  the  private  doors,  around  which  were  gath 
ered  a  number  of  lawyers.  Gravoir,  looking  up  from 
his  desk,  perceived  Hortense  Gildersleeve  pass  through 


THE    TRIAL.  349 

the  crowd  as  a  deputy  sheriff  opened  a  passage.  Her 
father,  who  was  seated  near  Gravoir,  also  saw  her  enter, 
to  his  great  surprise. 

"  What  brings  you  here,  Hortense  ? "  he  asked,  as 
soon  as  she  had  been  provided  with  a  chair  by  his  side. 
Gravoir  had  hastened  to  meet  her,  and  now  stood  anx 
iously  awaiting  an  answer  to  the  question.  Perhaps 
every  eye  in  the  room  was  bent  upon  her  for  the  mo 
ment  ;  even  the  sheriff  stopped  in  his  testimony.  The 
crowd  gazed  curiously  upon  the  embarrassed  girl,  who 
had  never  looked  more  beautiful  than  at  this  time, 
flushed  with  the  excitement  and  novelty  of  her  position. 
Some  close  observers  claimed  afterwards  that  when 
Mixon  first  saw  her,  he  was  perceptibly  startled,  and 
that  he  became  more  nervous  than  he  had  been  in  the 
morning.  Maurice  evidently  did  not  understand  the 
situation ;  his  face  only  expressed  a  passing  astonish 
ment,  to  be  succeeded  by  its  former  calm  repose  as  he 
turned  again  to  listen  to  the  evidence. 

"  How  came  you  here,  Hortense  ? "  repeated  her 
father. 

'  I  don't  understand  it  myself,"  she  answered, 
speaking  a  little  excitedly.  "  Listen,  Mr.  Gravoir  ;  I 
wish  you  to  know."  That  gentlemen  bent  low  to 
catch  her  whispered  tones.  "  This  morning  a  man  we 
supposed  to  be  a  constable,  or  something  of  the  kind, 
came  to  the  house  and  said  that  I  must  prepare  to  go 
to  the  city  at  once  as  a  witness  in  this  trial.  He  pro 
duced  a  paper  which  mother  thought  legal,  and  she 
said  I  would  have  to  come.  The  man  wanted  me  to 
ride  with  him  in  a  buggy,  as  there  was  no  train  until 
afternoon  ;  but  I  ordered  out  the  carriage  and  drove 
down.  The  man  was  very  careful,  though,  to  keep 


350  THE   SHADOW  OF    THE   WAR. 

near  me  all  the  time.  That  is  all  I  know  about  the 
matter." 

Gravoir  listened  quietly,  his  face  as  immobile  as 
ever.  He  had  feared  some  unforseen  denouement,  and 
here  was  an  emergency  as  threatening  to  Mixon  as  it 
was  inexplicable.  How  could  those  fellows  have  gained 
their  information,  and  how  should  he  meet  the  point  ? 
Perhaps  there  was  more  to  come,  entangling  at  least 
one  of  his  clients  so  deeply  in  the  trap,  that,  apart  from 
the  prejudices  of  the  jury,  no  legal  skill  could  extricate 
him  out  of  its  meshes.  Without  betraying  in  the  least 
his  chagrin  and  fears,  Gravoir  resumed  his  chair  beside 
his  associate  in  time  to  hear  the  attorney-general  ask  : 

"  Mr.  Sheriff,  did  Mr.  Graham  know  before  your 
visit  the  purpose  for  which  you  intended  to  call  ?" 

"  Yes,  sir  ;  I  made  the  appointment  with  him  in  the 
morning,  and  gave  my  reasons  for  choosing  the  even 
ing,  but  not  the  details  of  the  plan." 

And  then  Gravoir  could  understand  how,  by  means 
of  Hortense's  testimony,  the  prosecution  would  en 
deavor  to  show  collusion  between  the  two  prisoners. 

When  the  cross-examination  of  the  sheriff  was  con 
cluded,  Miss  Gildersleeve  was  called.  Three  times  her 
name  was  rung  out  by  the  crier,  and  with  a  scarcely 
perceptible  trepidation  she  took  her  seat  in  the  wit 
ness  chair. 

Attorney-General  (with  great  deference  of  manner 
and  evidently  desirous  of  conciliating  the  witness)  : 
"  Miss  Gildersleeve,  can  you  give  me  any  account  of 
Major  Mixon's  whereabouts  on  the  evening  of  the  re 
ception  held  at  Colonel  Graham's  house  last  May  ?  " 

Hortense :  "  He  was  present  at  the  reception,  and 
in  my  company  for  a  portion  of  the  time." 


THE    TRIAL.  351 


Attorney-General :  "  Tell  me  now  of  what  took  place 
during  that  time,  please,  and  particularly  where  you 
left  him." 

Hortense :  "  We  chatted  together  as  people  usually 
do  when  they  meet  in  society." 

The  attorney  -  general  smiled,  and  wondered 
whether  this  young  person  was  innocent  enough  to 
think  she  could  escape  so  easily.  If  Hortense  had  had 
any  such  idea,  she  must  have  soon  dismissed  it,  for  in 
the  course  of  a  quarter  of  an  hour  the  lawyer  had 
forced  her  to  lay  before  the  jury  all  the  events  of  the 
evening  in  question,  beginning  at  the  point  where 
she  was  engaged  in  conversation  with  Mrs.  Mixon. 
He  actually  made  her  tell  why  she  had  proposed  a 
promenade  to  Major  Mixon.  While  her  testimony, 
especially  on  cross-examination,  developed  with  great 
clearness  the  purely  accidental  cause  of  Mixon's  pres 
ence  in  the  court-yard,  yet  it  disclosed  immediately  to 
the  amazed  throng  of  listeners,  at  least  to  their  own 
satisfaction,  the  whole  mystery  of  the  lynching.  Gra- 
voir,  turning  to  his  associate,  remarked  : 

"  That's  a  heavy  blow  against  Mixon,  with  such  a 
jury  ;  but  unless  they  have  more,  it  is  only  circumstan 
tial,  and  proves  eavesdropping,  not  lynching." 

When  Miss  Gildersleeve  descended  from  her  posi 
tion,  a  buzz  of  excited  talk  passed  around  the  court 
room,  quickly  suppressed,  however,  as  the  crier  shouted 
"  Mrs.  Louis  Mixon  !  "  The  crowd  was  greedy  for 
further  developments. 

Attorney-General  (as  soon  as  the  witness  was  ready 
to  respond)  :  "  Madam,  did  you  ever  see  this  before  ?  " 
handing  her  a  sleeve-button. 
X 


352  THE    SHADOW  OF    THE    WAR. 

The  poor  little  lady  gazed  blankly  at  the  piece  of 
jewelry,  and  with  surprise  stamped  on  every  feature 
of  her  face,  mechanically  answered  "  Yes."  Then  she 
looked  over  to  where  Hortense  sat,  and  a  quick  flash 
of  intelligence  passed  between  the  two. 

Attorney-General :  "  To  whom  does  it  belong  ? " 

Mrs.  Mixon  :  "  To  my  husband,  sir." 

Attorney-General:  " One  other  question  :  was  your 
husband  with  you  on  the  night  of  the  lynching  ? " 

Mrs.  Mixon  :  "  No,  sir." 

Attorney-General :  "  That  will  do,  madam." 

This  partial  development  was  a  complete  enigma  to 
Gravoir,  who  again  was  mystified.  When  the  witness 
was  delivered  to  him  for  cross-examination,  he  declined 
the  opportunity,  concluding  to  defer  his  questioning 
until  the  point  had  been  made  clearer,  and  knowing 
that  he  could  recall  Mrs.  Mixon  when  the  defence 
introduced  their  evidence. 

The  next  witness  summoned  by  the  prosecution 
was  the  Rev.  Mr.  Tomkins. 

Attorney-General  (after  that  individual  had  taken 
the  usual  oath  about  speaking  the  truth) :  "  Can  you 
tell  me  any  thing  about  this  button,  Mr.  Tomkins  ?  " 

"  Yes,  sah,"  was  the  glib  answer.  "  I  was  walkin' 
right  close  by  Luber's  Lake  on  de  mornin'  when 
'Nezzar  was  hangded,  an'  I  seen  sumfin  shinin'  bright 
like  the  stars  in  de  inferment.  So  I  bended  down  an' 
pick  it  up.  It  was  dat  same  sleebe-button,  wid  fresh 
blood  on  it." 

"  D — n  that  fool !  "  muttered  Sharpe,  who  had  been 
closely  watching  the  trial,  and  who  was  acute  enough 
to  perceive  the  one  flaw  in  Tomkins'  testimony.  "  Why 


THE    TRIAL.  353 


should  he  want  to  be  sensational,  with  his  fresh 
blood?" 

Attorney-General  (to  witness)  :  "  What  did  you  do 
with  it  ? " 

Tomkins :  "  I  hide  it  a  long  time,  'cause  I  thought 
it  'longed  ter  Major  Mixon  an'  I  was  feared  ter  tell. 
Den  I  carried  it  ter  Mr.  Sharpe,  an'  he  says  I  mus'  gib 
it  ter  de  sheriff." 

Gravoir  (cross-examining) :  "  You  are  sure  it  was 
really  fresh  blood  on  the  button  ?  " 

Tomkins :  "  Freshest  kind  o'  blood,  sah  !  " 

Gravoir  :  "  Covered  all  over  with  blood  ? " 

Tomkins:  "Yer  couldn't  see  nuffin  fur  de  blood, 
sah." 

Gravoir :  "  Was  it  dry — looked  as  if  it  had  been  on 
the  button  for  some  time  ?  " 

Tomkins  (confusedly) :  "  I  'spec'  so,  sah." 

Gravoir  :  "  How  did  you  know  it  was  fresh  unless 
you  noticed  that  it  was  still  wet  ? " 

Attorney-General :  "  I  object,  your  Honor,  to  these 
questions.  What  can  it  matter  whether  the  blood  was 
moist  or  dry  ?  The  button  was  found  near  the  Lake, 
and  that  is  the  only  important  point." 

fudge :  "  The  questions  are  quite  relevant ;  the 
witness  must  answer." 

Tomkins  (the  question  having  been  repeated)  :  "De 
blood  was  wet,  sah." 

Gravoir :  "  Did  you  see  or  hear  of  anybody  bleed 
ing  about  the  place  ?  " 

Tomkins  :  "  No,  sah." 

Gravoir  :  "  Did  you  see  any  cuts  or  blood  on  'Nez- 
zar's  body  ? " 


354  THE   SHADOW  OF    THE   WAR, 

Tomkins  (in  a  bewildered  way)  :  "  No,  sah." 

Gravoir :  "  How  is  it,  if  the  button  was  covered 
with  blood,  that  you  could  see  it  shining  like  a  star  in 
the  firmament  ?  " 

Tomkins  (for  a  moment  at  a  loss  how  to  answer,  but 
quickly  recovering)  :  "Oh  !  I  'spec'  dat  was  de  blue 
stone  I  seen  shinin'." 

Gravoir — "You  may  step  down." 

At  this  juncture,  Hortense  Gildersleeve  and  Mrs. 
Mixon  approached  Mr.  Gravoir,  and  for  several  min 
utes  the  three  held  a  hurried  conversation  in  subdued 
tones,  the  court  and  spectators  looking  on  curiously. 
Finally,  when  the  judge's  patience  was  almost  exhausted 
they  seemed  to  reach  some  decision,  and  the  ladies 
went  back  to  their  chairs,  looking  decidedly  more  cheer 
ful. 

"  May  it  please  your  Honor,"  said  Gravoir,  address 
ing  the  Court,  "this  trial  has  brought  about  some  unex 
pected  developments,  for  which  we  were  unable  to  pre 
pare  when  summoning  our  witnesses.  In  justice  to 
our  clients,  we  ask  to  continue  the  case  until  to-morrow 
morning,  in  order  that  additional  witnesses  may  be 
obtained.  The  evidence  that  they  can  furnish  will 
completely  change  the  aspect  of  the  case." 

As  a  matter  of  course,  the  prosecution  objected  to 
the  delay,  and  a  short  controversy  ensued  out  of 
which  the  defence  emerged  victorious.  Before  the 
court  adjourned  that  afternoon,  Mr.  Gravoir  had 
obtained  a  warrant  for  the  apprehension  of  a  woman 
named  "  Mirandy,"  and,  armed- with  the  paper,  a  con 
stable  went  to  Belleville  on  the  evening  train  to  effect 
her  arrest. 


THE    TRIAL.  355 


Mr.  Gildersleeve  returned  to  the  town  on  the  same 
train,  but  his  daughter  remained  in  the  city  with  the 
Grahams.  After  supper  Mr.  Gravoir  called  and  held 
a  long  consultation  in  the  drawing-room  with  Mrs. 
Mixon  and  Hortense.  Maurice  and  Mixon  enjoyed 
the  hospitality  of  the  sheriff  for  the  night. 


CHAPTER  XXXIII. 

THE  VERDICT. 

THE  court  was  convened  next  morning  at  the 
usual  hour — ten  o'clock.  The  defence  opened 
the  proceedings  by  placing  the  deputy  sheriff  and  sev 
eral  of  the  posse  on  the  witness  stand.  Their  evidence, 
as  elicited  by  the  defence,  showed  that  Mixon  was  at 
home  when  the  posse  rode  up  to  his  house  ;  that  the 
rapping  on  his  door  was  repeated  several  times  before 
he  answered  ;  and  that  finally  he  appeared  at  a  window 
in  his  night  clothes.  This  was  the  evidence  on  which 
Mr.  Gravoir  hoped  to  establish  an  alibi. 

"Madam,"  asked  Mr.  Gravoir  of  Mrs.  Mixon,  when 
that  lady  had  again  taken  the  stand  ;  "  Madam,  what 
jewelry  did  your  husband  wear  to  that  reception  at 
Colonel  Graham's  house,  the  night  before  the  lynch 
ing?" 

Mrs.  Mixon :  "  Two  sleeve-buttons,  a  seal  ring,  and 
a  set  of  plain  gold  studs." 

Gravoir :  "  Is  the  sleeve-button  which  you  identi 
fied  yesterday  as  his  property,  one  of  the  pair  he  wore 
on  that  occasion  ?  " 

Mrs.  Mixon:  "Yes,  sir." 

Gravoir :  "  Does  he  usually  wear  these  ornaments  ? " 

Mrs.  Mixon  ;  "  No,  except  the  seal  ring  ;  he  wears 
the  others  only  when  in  full  dress." 

(356) 


THE   VERDICT.  357 


Gravoir  :  "  He  accompanied  you  home  that  even 
ing  ;  when  did  he  next  leave  you  ? " 

Mrs.  Mixon  :  "  Early  next  morning  ;  he  said  that 
business  called  him  to  Belleville." 

Gravoir  :  "  Did  he  then  take  away  on  his  person 
any  of  the  jewelry  he  wore  on  thjs  preceding  even 
ing?" 

Mrs.  Mixon  :  "  Only  the  seal  ring." 

Gravoir :  "  How  do  you  know  that  he  did  not  wear 
a  sleeve-button  ?  " 

Mrs.  Mixon  :  "  Because  I  found  them  both  after  he 
had  gone.  I  have  two  jewel  cases,  one  of  which  is 
small  and  of  morocco  leather.  I  keep  in  it  a  pair  of 
ear-rings,  two  brooches,  also  my  husband's  studs  and 
sleeve-buttons.  Whenever  he  has  used  these,  they 
always  remain  where  he  has  thrown  them  until  I  put 
them  away.  I  don't  mean  to  say  that  he's  careless,  but 
you  see,  he  hasn't  time  to  bother  with  trifles.  After 
he  had  gone  that  morning,  I  replaced  the  studs  and 
sleeve-buttons  in  the  case  as  usual." 

Gravoir :  "  These  buttons,  then,  were  in  your  pos 
session  from  the  time  your  husband  left  you  until  after 
you  had  heard  of  the  lynching  ?  " 

Mrs.  Mixon  :  "Yes,  and  for  some  time  longer." 

Gravoir  :  "  When  and  how  did  that  sleeve-button 
go  out  of  your  possession  ? " 

Mrs.  Mixon  :  "  I  cannot  answer  that.  I  only  know 
that  a  week  or  two  after  my  husband  was  arrested,  I 
discovered  that  the  morocco  case  was  missing.  I  in 
formed  my  husband,  and  we  both  suspected  the  ser 
vants  ;  but  he  thought  it  best  to  keep  quiet  in  the  mat 
ter  until  his  trial  was  over,  and  on  account  of  the  polit 
ical  excitement.  In  fact,  we  never  expected  to  recover 


358  THE   SHADOW  OF    THE   WAR, 

the  jewelry  ;  but  thinking  that  possibly  they  might  be 
offered  for  sale,  we  privately  informed  the  jewelers  of 
this  city  about  the  loss." 

Gravoir :  "  Is  the  case  with  the  jewelry  in  your  pos 
session  now  ? " 

Mrs.  Mixon  :  "  Yes,  sir,  except  one  sleeve-button. 
Two  or  three  weeks  ago,  Miss  Gildersleeve  brought 
them  to  me  and  said  she  had  found  them." 

This  concluded  the  direct  examination  of  the  lady, 
who  was  delivered  over  to  the  cross-questioning  of  the 
prosecution.  But  under  the  severest  tests  to  which  the 
attorney-general  could  subject  her,  Mrs.  Mixon  never 
wavered  in  the  slightest  ;  and  perceiving  that  she  only 
strengthened  her  previous  testimony,  he  was  soon  glad 
to  dismiss  her.  As  she  resumed  her  chair,  Gravior 
whispered  something  in  her  ear ;  the  wife  looked 
towards  her  husband,  and  there  was  a  glad  smile  on  her 
care-worn  face. 

Hortense  Gildersleeve  was  again  called.  She  tes 
tified  that  on  the  day  of  the  riot  in  Belleville,  she  had 
gone  to  take  some  telegrams  to  the  depot,  and  had  been 
assaulted  by  some  negro  women  as  she  passed  through 
"  Nigger  Town  ";  that  they  fled  when  she  fired  a  pistol, 
and  one  had  dropped  a  leather  case  on  which  was 
stamped  the  name  "  Carrie  L.  Mixon."  On  returning 
home,  she  put  the  case  in  a  safe  place  ;  and  as  her 
time  had  been  fully  occupied  by  reason  of  sickness  in 
the  house,  she  did  not  deliver  it  to  Mrs.  Mixon  for  sev 
eral  weeks.  (In  truth,  her  thoughts  had  been  so  en 
grossed  at  the  time  that  she  forgot  all  about  the  case  ; 
but  this  little  explanation  she  naturally  omitted.)  When 
she  did  deliver  the  case,  Mrs.  Mixon  opened  it  in  her 
presence,  and  she  remembered  that  the  latter  had  called 


THE   VERDICT.  359 


her  attention  to  the  fact  that  one  of  .the  sleeve-buttons 
was  missing.  Finally,  Hortense  was  confronted  with  a 
negro  woman  whom  she  immediately  identified  as  the 
one  from  whose  person  the  jewel  case  had  fallen.  In 
vain  did  the  prosecution  endeavor  to  shake  her  testi 
mony  ;  like  that  of  Mrs.  Mixon,  it  had  been  given 
with  great  clearness,  and  the  attorney-general  soon 
abandoned  the  effort. 

This  negro  woman,  known  in  Belleville  as  Mirandy, 
was  the  witness  whose  arrest  Gravoir  had  effected  on 
the  previous  evening,  and  of  whose  existence  he  had 
become  acquainted  through  Hortense.  Subjected  to 
an  examination,  she  at  first  obstinately  refused  to 
answer  any  question,  until  the  court  had  threatened 
her  with  imprisonment.  Then  she  admitted  having 
had  the  jewelry,  saying  that  she  had  found  the  case  on 
the  road,  and,  evidently  through  fear  of  being  held 
responsible,  she  stoutly  maintained  that  the  case  con 
tained  only  one  sleeve-button  when  it  came  into  her 
possession.  With  this  information  the  defence  was 
obliged  to  rest  content,  as  the  woman  either  did  not 
or  pretended  not  to  know  more. 

After  several  jewelers  had  testified  to  having  been 
notified  by  Major  Mixon  of  his  loss,  the  defence 
announced  themselves  ready  for  argument. 

During  the  next  two  hours,  the  court-room  rang 
with  the  voices  of  the  opposing  counsel,  and  the  atten 
tion  the  audience  gave  showed  how  deep  was  popular 
interest  in  the  case.  There  was  undoubtedly  on  each 
side  some  of  the  best  legal  talent  in  the  State  ;  and  by 
the  time  the  speeches  were  ended,  the  lawyers  had  suc 
ceeded  in  working  up  almost  every  one  present  to  an 
intense  anxiety  about  the  result.  As  the  last  words 


360  THE   SHADOW  OF    THE   WAR. 

were  spoken,  the  more  nervous  people  drew  a  long 
breath,  re-arranged  themselves  comfortably  in  their 
seats,  and  asked  their  neighbors  what  they  thought. 
The  lawyers  were  awaiting  the  judge's  charge — to 
them  the  real  verdict  in  the  case. 

"  Gentlemen  of  the  jury,"  began  his  Honor,  in  a  loud 
clear  voice,  "  the  indictment  upon  which  is  based  the 
present  prosecution  against  the  prisoners  at  the  bar, 
consists  of  two  counts.  One  count  charges  them  with 
a  conspiracy  to  take  the  life  of  the  negro  Nebuchad 
nezzar,  and  the  other  charges  them  with  the  murder  of 
the  said  negro. 

"  In  order  that  there  may  be  a  conspiracy,  there 
must  be  at  least  two  conspirators.  One  person  alone 
cannot  be  convicted  of  a  conspiracy.  Although  evi 
dence  has  been  adduced  which  establishes  the  exist 
ence  of  a  conspiracy  to  bring  about  the  lynching,  and 
slight  evidence,  raising  a  rather  strong  presumption, 
that  the  defendant  Mixon  was  implicated  in  the  alleged 
conspiracy,  there  is  no  evidence  connecting  the  defend 
ant  Graham  with  the  affair.  You  will  therefore  bring 
in  a  verdict  of  acquittal  on  the  first  count. 

"  As  to  the  second  count,  in  which  the  defendants 
are  charged  with  murder,  the  evidence  for  the  prose 
cution  has  failed  altogether  to  connect  the  defendant 
Graham  with  the  crime.  The  only  evidence  which 
throws  the  least  suspicion  upon  him,  is  the  fact  that 
the  defendant  Mixon  was  in  the  court-yard  adjoining 
Mr.  Graham's  library,  and  that  he  may  have  overheard 
the  conversation  of  the  sheriff  with  the  defendant  Gra 
ham.  But  the  casual  presence  of  Major  Mixon,  as 
established  by  Miss  Gildersleeve,  and  the  zeal  with  which 
Graham  pursued  the  unknown  horseman  on  the  night 


THE   VERDICT.  361 


of  the  lynching,  is  sufficient  evidence  to  exonerate 
him. 

"  As  to  the  defendant  Mixon,  the  evidence  is  purely 
circumstantial.  In  support  of  the  prosecution,  we 
have  evidence  of  a  motive  for  the  crime,  of  Major 
Mixon's  previous  hunt  after  the  negro,  and  his  threats 
to  deal  out  justice  to  him  with  his  own  hands  on  the 
first  opportunity.  It  is  also  shown  that  he  was  in  a 
position  where  he  might  have  overheard  the  conversa 
tion  of  the  sheriff  with  Graham  in  respect  to  the  sur 
render  of  the  negro  ;  and  the  flight  of  the  horseman 
down  the  avenue  leading  to  Major  Mixon's  house  is 
another  circumstance  bearing  against  him.  On  the 
other  hand,  the  defence  shows  that  when  the  sheriff's 
posse  arrived  at  his  residence,  only  a  few  moments 
after  the  horseman  had  disappeared,  the  defendant 
appeared  at  an  upper  window,  in  his  nig;;t  clothes, 
having  evidently  been  aroused  from  sleep,  and  that  he 
seemed  much  surprised  by  their  visit.  The  only 
other  evidence  in  the  case,  connecting  the  defendant 
Mixon  with  the  crime,  is  Tomkins'  testimony  in  refer 
ence  to  finding  one  of  Major  Mixon's  sleeve-buttons 
near  the  lake  on  the  day  after  the  lynching.  Mrs. 
Mixon,  however,  testifies  that  she  had  possession  of 
the  sleeve-buttons  for  some  weeks  after  the  crime  was 
committed,  and  that  her  husband  never  wore  them 
except  on  dress  occasions. 

"  Gentlemen,  you  are  by  the  law  judges  of  the  facts, 
but  it  is  my  duty  to  assist  you  in  arriving  at  your  con 
clusions.  Tomkins'  evidence  is  inherently  unreliable  ; 
and  the  other  evidence  only  raises  a  presumption, 
although  a  very  strong  presumption,  that  the  defendant 


362  THE   SHADOW  OF   THE   WAR. 

Mixon  is  guilty  of  the  murder  of  'Nezzar.  But  it  is 
my  opinion  that  the  evidence  is  not  strong  enough  to 
convict  him.  You  will  now  retire  to  your  room  for 
deliberation,  and  the  court  will  await  your  return."  * 

At  the  conclusion  of  the  charge,  when  the  jury 
filed  out,  Gravoir's  countenance  was  placid,  as  though 
he  had  been  relieved  of  a  mental  strain.  He  walked 
over  to  where  Mrs.  Mixon  sat  and  said  : 

"I  congratulate  you,  Carrie,  on  your  husband's 
safety." 

The  little  lady  clasped  her  hands  together  with  the 
nervousness  that  comes  from  a  happiness  not  yet 
wholly  assured,  and  looked  smilingly  and  gratefully  up 
into  her  relative's  face.  The  Major  stroked  his  beard 
with  the  half-modest,  half  self-conscious  air  of  a  man 
who  had  had  justice — "  only  justice,  sir  !  " — done 
him  ;  and,  in  fact,  everybody  interested  in  the  defence 
seemed  happy  and  contented.  Maurice  Graham  alone 
appeared  indifferent  to  what  was  going  on.  He  leaned 
back  against  the  railing  of  the  dock,  with  his  eyes 
almost  closed,  and  looked  like  a  man  who  was  very 
weary.  Occasionally,  when  unobserved,  Hortense 
would  glance  furtively  at  him ;  and  as  her  eyes 

*  In  the  State  where  this  trial  is  supposed  to  have  been  held,  there  is  still 
in  force  the  old  English  common  law,  which  gives  the  judge  the  right  to 
advise  and  assist  the  jury  in  their  consideration  of  evidence.  Many  others  of 
the  States  have,  however,  deprived  the  bench  by  statute  of  this  power  of 
recapitulating  the  evidence,  and  of  commenting  on  its  bearing  and  weight. 
They  permit  the  judge  to  instruct  the  jury  only  as  to  the  law,  and  leave  the 
other  important  questions  of  fact  to  be  determined  upon  solely  by  partly  ignor 
ant  and  all  unskilled  men,  without  even  the  assistance  of  an  experienced  mind 
to  unravel  the  tangle  in  which  the  lawyers,  on  one  or  the  other  side,  often 
leave  a  case.  The  action  of  these  States  in  this  respect  may  be  consonant 
with  what  many  call  the  progressiveness  of  popular  liberty,  but  it  can  hardly 
be  considered  an  improvement  on  the  common  sense  of  our  ancestors. 


THE   VERDICT.  363 


rested  momentarily  on  his  face,  it  had  that  same  wist 
ful  expression  she  had  once  before  cast  across  the  break 
fast  table. 

Considering  the  nature  of  the  judge's  charge,  no 
body  thought  that  the  jury  would  be  out  long,  and  so 
the  audience  were  not  very  much  surprised  when,  some 
fifteen  minutes  later,  a  sudden  confusion  near  one  of 
the  doors  startled  them  into  expectancy.  Directly, 
the  twelve  men  entered,  two  abreast  ;  they  crossed  the 
room  with  measured  tread,  as  though  fully  aware  of 
their  importance,  and  resumed  their  seats  amid  an 
impressive  silence. 

"  Gentlemen  of  the  jury,"  asked  the  judge,  "  have 
you  agreed  upon  a  verdict  ?  " 

"We  has,  yer  Honah,"  answered  the  foreman,  a 
negro. 

"  How  do  you  find  the  defendants,  guilty  or  not 
guilty  ?  " 

"  We  find  dat  both  de  defendants  is  guilty  ob  mur 
der." 

For  the  first  time  during  the  trial,  Gravoir  lost  his 
self-control.  He  seemed  to  share  with  the  audience 
the  shock  that  had  electrified  them.  Springing  from 
his  seat,  he  cried  out  excitedly  : 

"  I  object,  your  Honor,  I  object  !  I  move  to  set 
aside  — " 

"  Never  mind,  Mr.  Gravoir,"  interrupted  the  Court. 
"  Not  a  word  is  necessary,  sir.  I  would  not  allow  such 
a  verdict  to  stand  in  my  court  for  a  minute.  Gentle 
men  of  the  jury,  you  are  discharged  ;  you  have  dis 
tinguished  yourselves  !  I  grant  a  new  trial  of  this 
case  at  the  next  term  of  court.  The  defendants  are 


364  THE   SHADOW  OF   THE   WAR. 

released  on  bail,  Major  Mixon's  amount  being  reduced 
to  five  thousand  dollars,  and  Mr.  Graham's  to  five  hun 
dred.  The  clerk  will  immediately  make  out  the  nec 
essary  papers.  This  court  now  stands  adjourned  until 
ten  o'clock  to-morrow  morning." 


CHAPTER   XXXIV. 

MAN  PROPOSES,  BUT  WOMAN  — 


IT  was  on  the  second  day  after  the  trial,  that  Mau 
rice  Graham  and  Aunt  Dinah  were  together  in 
the  former's  library,  where  they  had  been  for  some 
minutes  talking  together.  She  stood  regarding  him 
from  a  little  distance  with  mute  admiration.  Good  old 
soul  !  She  never  could  look  at  him  enough,  especially 
since  his  sickness  ;  and  just  now  the  expression  of 
pride  and  affection  playing  over  her  features  almost 
beautified  the  honest  black  face.  He  was  sitting  near 
a  desk,  in  almost  the  same  position  he  occupied  on  the 
night  when  the  sheriff  called  ;  and  he  appeared  thought 
ful  or  perplexed,  but  with  flushed  cheeks,  and  a  strange, 
joyful  light  in  his  eyes.  At  last  he  looked  up,  and 
said  : 

"  You  are  sure,  mauma,  about  what  you  have  told 
me  ?  " 

"  Sure's  I's  a  libin'  'ooman,  Marse  Maurice  !  "  she 
replied  earnestly,  her  face  becoming  serious  im 
mediately.  "I  'lowed  datyer  ought  ter  know,  'tic'larly 
sence  de  trial  showed  dat  she's  'quainted  wid  so  much 
o'  yer  doings.  She's  ebidently  been  watchin'  yer  fur 
a  long  time.  Dese  Yankees,  yer  see,  dey  is  mighty 
sharp,  dey  is,  fur  a  fac' ;  an'  dis  yer  gal  an'  her  folks 
come  from  the  place  whar  dey  meks  de  wooden  nut 
megs  dat  I  hearn  tell  on." 

(365) 


3G6  THE    SHADOW  OF   THE   WAR. 

"And  so  you  think  I  had  better  be  careful,  eh?" 
he  asked,  scarcely  able  to  repress  a  smile. 

"  'Deed  yer  has  ter  be  !  Lors  sakes,  marsa,  don't 
laugh  !  Tek  care  !  Dat  gal  will  try  fur  ter  ketch  yer 
yit,  sure's  you's  my  chile  !  She's  got  her  eye  on  yer 
now  ;  I  seen  it  de  hull  time  you  was  sick.  No  gal 
nebber  kiss  a  man  like  dat  fur  nuffin,"  shaking  her  head 
sagaciously. 

"  But  is  she  not  a  good  girl  ?  "  he  asked,  as  though 
in  a  mood  for  argument. 

"Mebbe  she  is,"  replied  Aunt  Dinah  cautiously. 
"  She  was  good  ter  yer  when  yer  was  so  bad  off,  so  I 
says  nuffin  agin  her.  But  tink  ob  her  kissin'  yer  wid- 
out  eben  de  askin'  !  "  Annt  Dinah's  face  looked  un 
utterable  horror. 

"  But  perhaps  she  was  grateful  to  me  for  having 
tried  to  help  her  father  out  of  that  scrape,  mauma." 

"  Yes,  an'  mebbe  she's  in  love  wid  yer  fur  de  same 
ting.  Marse  Maurice  " — with  great  emphasis — "  rec'- 
lect  dat  she's  a  Yankee  gal !  Is  dese  Yankee  gals  lib- 
erted  ter  ketch  our  boys  ?  Recken  she  tinks  she's 
good  'nouf  fur  yer  !  "  with  a  decided  sniff  of  con 
tempt. 

'  But  isn't  she  good,  and  beautiful,  and  sensible  ?  " 
persisted  Maurice  delighting  to  humor  his  old  nurse, 
and  glad  indeed  to  linger  about  such  a  subject. 

"  All  dat's  no  'count.  She  ain't  one  ob  our  gals  ; 
she's  a  Yankee,"  returned  Aunt  Dinah,  sententiously. 

"Thank  you,  mauma,  for  telling  me,  but  be  sure 
you  don't  let  any  one  else  know,  not  even  mother." 

"  Don't  yer  be  feared  !  I  ain't  gwine  ter  hab  no 
one  ter  know  dat  she  kissed  my  chile  !  " 

After  the  old  woman  had  gone,  Maurice  sat  quietly 


MAN  PROPOSES,    BUT    WOMAN  .?        367 

in  his  library  for  a  long  time,  absorbed  by  his  thoughts 
and  the  story  told  him  by  his  nurse.  Long  ago  he 
had  determined  to  forget  and  to  outlive  the  foolish 
fancy  that  had  entered  his  heart.  He  had  conscien 
tiously  faced  what  seemed  to  be  inevitable,  because  he 
believed  that  the  object  of  his  affections  loved  another. 
But  this  revelation  had  scattered  his  conclusions  to  the 
winds,  and  left  him  hopeful,  doubting,  hesitating  to 
act,  a  prey  to  all  the  emotions  that  desire  and  uncer 
tainty  can  arouse. 

"  Yes,  it  must  be  so.  And  yet — suppose  I  am  mis 
taken,  and  only  make  a  fool  of  myself  ?  Ernest  Trun- 
don  !  How  I  have  remembered  his  name  ever  since 
that  evening  !  I  wonder  what  kind  of  a  fellow  he  is  ? 
It  must  be  !  It  must  be  !  She's  not  the  girl  to  kiss  a 
man  capriciously ;  if  she  did  it,  she  meant  it.  Let  me 
think  :  Aunt  Dinah  and  Trundon  see  her  kiss  me  ;  she 
faints,  and  he  leaves  next  morning  ;  what  more  prob 
able  than  that  her  engagement  is  broken  ?  Did  she 
ever  love  him  ?  Perhaps  not,  for  sometimes  a  woman 
engages  herself  without  being  very  much  in  love  ;  or 
may  not  her  feelings  have  changed  ?  Why  should  he 
come  so  suddenly  ?  Why  should  she  kiss  me  and  faint 

unless unless Bah  !  what  a  fool  I  am  to 

dream  of  such  a  thing  !  " 

Nevertheless,  when  the  bell,  ringing  for  lunch,  in 
terrupted  his  meditations,  Maurice  Graham  had  deter 
mined  to  find  out  whether  or  not  she  loved  Ernest 
Trundon,  and  if  she  did — why,  then,  the  sooner  he 
was  off  for  the  Southwest  the  better  for  his  health,  of 
course. 

Thus  it  was  that  a  little  after  sunset  the  same  after 
noon,  he  found  himself  in  Belleville.  No  sooner  had 
Y 


368  THE    SHADOW  OF    THE    WAR. 

he  stepped  off  the  cars  than  he  began  blaming 
himself  for  his  haste.  But  it  was  too  late  to  retreat, 
and  if  necessary  his  visit  could  be  made  only  a  social 
one  after  all.  He  walked  on  rapidly  through  the  town, 
and  as  he  entered  the  Gildersleeves'  premises  he  saw 
Hortense  sitting  on  the  front  steps. 

"  Why,  is  that  you,  Mr.  Graham  ?  Where  did  you 
come  from  ?  I  am  so  glad  to  see  you  !  Sit  right  down 
here,"  said  she,  as  he  approached. 

"  What  were  you  doing  all  by  yourself  ? "  he  asked, 
taking  a  seat  beside  her. 

"  Father  and  mother  went  out  riding,  and  I  stayed 
at  home ;  so,  to  fill  up  the  time,  I  have  been  musing." 

"  Musing  ?     About  what,  may  I  ask  ? " 

"  Oh,  calling  up  reminiscences.  Don't  you  ever  do 
that  ? — or  perhaps  you  are  too  practical  to  waste  time 
that  way." 

"  But  I  do,  sometimes.  Indeed,  I  was  thinking 
to-day  of  a  conversation  you  and  I  had  last  winter. 
Do  you  remember  it  ?  " 

She  knew  in  a  moment  what  he  meant.  Something 
in  his  tone,  its  sudden  assumption  of  seriousness,  and 
the  earnest  and  eager  look  he  cast  upon  her,  immedi 
ately  arrested  her  attention  ;  and  as  the  thoughts  of 
both  had  happened  to  wander  in  very  much  the  same 
direction  that  afternoon,  she  failed  to  notice  the  incon 
gruity  of  his  approaching  this  subject  so  unexpectedly 
and  after  such  a  lapse  of  time.  But,  true  to  the  in 
stincts  of  her  sex,  she  was  quickly  on  the  defensive, 
and  answered  lightly  : 

"  Really,  Mr.  Graham,  I  enjoy  your  conversations 
too  much  to  be  able  to  recall  any  one  of  them  separ 
ately.  They  are  all  delightful." 


MAN  PROPOSES,   BUT    WOMAN'  ?        369 

There  was  no  tinge  of  good-natured  sarcasm  in  her 
voice  or  words,  but  they  rather  invited  further  investi 
gation.  So  he  returned  : 

"  But  this  one  was  out  of  the  ordinary.  I  mean  the 
one  when  you  told  me  of  your  engagement." 

"  Did  I  tell  you  that  nonsense  ?  What  a  goose  I 
was  ! " 

"  You  see  I  haven't  forgotten  it ;  my  memory  is 
good  !  " 

"  Yes,  we  have  all  feared  that  your  sickness  might 
leave  some  unhappy  effect  on  your  mind  ;  and  we 
ought  to  feel  grateful  to  the  doctors  that  you  are  so 
fully  recovered." 

"Quite  fortunate,  indeed.  But  to  return  to  our 
original  subject :  Are  you  still  engaged  ? " 

"  Who  told  you  that  ?  "  said  she,  a  little  sharply. 

"  A  fortune-teller.     So  it  is  true,  then  ?  " 

"  I  think  you  are  provokingly  inquisitive  !  "  Then 
she  laughed  softly  to  herself.  In  spite  of  the  tremor 
that  was  beginning  to  steal  into  her  voice,  she  could 
not  help  realizing  the  ridiculous  contradiction  to  her 
words  implied  by  the  half-amused,  anything  but  re 
sentful,  tone  in  which  she  spoke. 

And  Maurice,  on  his  part,  could  hardly  have  taken 
her  words  at  their  pretended  value,  else  he  was  a  very 
audacious  man ;  for  he  drew  a  little  closer  and  bent 
his  head  nearer  hers. 

"But  you  ought  to  let  me  know,"  he  continued  ; 
"  I  have  a  very  good  reason  for  asking,  and  we'll 
exchange  confidences." 

"  Are  you  sure  you  have  a  genuine  article  to  give  in 
return,  and  won't  cheat  me  ?  "  she  asked,  her  manner 
at  the  moment  blending  the  serious,  the  comic,  and  a 


370  THE    SHADOW  OF    THE   WAR. 

certain  girlish  simplicity,  into  a  most  fascinating  com 
bination. 

"  I'll  swear  to  it  !  " 

"  Don't  be  so  emphatic." 

"  But  your  answer  !  " 

"  Oh,  about  the  engagement  ?  Well,  then,  I  am  no 
longer  engaged.  There,  you  persistent  fellow ;  I 
hope  you  are  satisfied  now  !  Come,  let's  take  a  walk 
in  the  garden  ;  "  and  she  half  arose. 

"  No,"  said  he,  gently  detaining  her.  "  Have  you 
forgotten  the  return  I  was  to  make  ? "  Maurice's  voice 
grew  husky  with  emotion  he  could  barely  restrain. 

"  Pshaw !  I  took  it  for  granted  that  what  you  had 
to  give  was  scarcely  worth  the  having,"  she  answered, 
trying  in  vain  to  assume  a  careless  manner,  as  she  felt 
her  own  composure  diminishing  every  moment. 

"  Hortense  Gildersleeve,  how  can  you  speak  so 
coldly  ?  Don't  you  know  I  love  you  ?  Could  you  not 
guess  the  truth  ?  I  thought  you  knew  it  !  " 

"I  —  I  had  not  the  advantage  of  a  fortune-teller, 
Mr.  Graham,"  was  her  last  weak  attempt  at  defense. 

"  You  don't  need  one  now  !  I  tell  you  I  love  you  ; 
my  whole  heart  has  gone  to  you  ;  and  now  that  you  are 
free,  may  I  not  plead  my  cause?  Listen  to -me,  my 
darling  ;  give  me  a  little  hope,  just  a  little,  and  I'll  try 
to  be  content." 

Her  head  had  sunk  so  low  that  although  his  was 
bending  near  he  could  not  see  her  face  in  the  dim 
and  dusky  light.  She  gave  no  answer  ;  the  girl's 
heart  was  too  full  for  words. 

"  And  have  you  nothing  to  say  to  me  ?  Must  I  go 
without  a  word  ?  "  he  asked,  after  a  little  pause. 

Somehow  at  that  moment  his  hand  met  hers,  and 


MAN  PROPOSES,   BUT    WOMAN  f        371 

the  answer  was  silently  given.  Before  they  had  parted 
that  evening,  she  told  him  the  whole  story  of  her  first 
engagement ;  and  with  her  good-night  kiss  still  warm 
upon  his  lips,  Maurice  Graham  knew  that  he  had  won 
the  greatest  joy  of  his  life. 

"  Who  would  have  thought  it,  mother  ?  "  asked  John 
Gildersleeve  of  his  wife,  in  a  rather  helpless  way,  the 
next  evening. 

"Yes,  to  be  sure,  it's  sudden,"  she  answered  ;  "but 
after  Ernest,  I  don't  see  how  she  could  have  done  bet 
ter." 

"  Oh,  I  was  not  finding  fault  with  him — it  is  Hor- 
tense  who  has  disappointed  me.  Just  to  think  of  all 
this  happening,  and  we  never  suspecting  it !  " 

"It's  plain -to  see  now  that  she's  desperately  in 
love,"  remarked  his  wife,  holding  up  to  the  light  the 
needle  she  was  about  to  thread. 

"  Yes  ;  and  I  had  set  her  down  for  an  old  maid  !  " 

"  And  now  they're  already  talking  about  marriage 
in  the  spring  !  It  shows  how  much  you  men  know 
about  such  things ! "  laughed  his  wife,  evidently  rel 
ishing  the  discomfiture  of  the  shrewd  business  man. 
"  Well,  it  is  a  great  relief  to  know  that  she  has  chosen 
wisely,  for  it  would  be  hard  to  oppose  her  in  such  a 
matter." 


CHAPTER    XXXV. 

CONCLUSION. 

WHEN  the  election  was  over  and  the  campaign 
ended,  it  was  discovered  that  the  vote  polled 
by  the  two  parties  was  very  close  ;  and  for  weeks  after 
wards  it  was  impossible  to  obtain  any  definite  knowl 
edge  of  the  result.  The  Radicals,  having  possession 
of  the  government,  knew  how  to  profit  by  that  advant 
age  ;  and  the  State  issue  being  intimately  connected 
with  the  National  contest,  the  central  powers,  as  all  the 
country  knows,  unhesitatingly  threw  its  support  on  the 
side  of  Radicalism.  But  despite  various  sharp  prac 
tices,  through  returning  boards  and  otherwise,  it  soon 
became  known  that  the  Democratic  candidates  had,  at 
least  on  the  face  of  the  returns,  received  a  majority. 
During  this  period  of  uncertainty,  charges  of  fraud, 
intimidation  and  bribery,  were  freely  bandied  about, 
and  probably  in  some  instances  they  were  founded  on 
fact.  The  Democrats  consoled  themselves  with  the 
belief  that  it  was  a  case  in  which  they  had  to  fight  the 
devil  with  his  own  weapons  ;  that  the  issue  raised  by 
past  and  impending  evils,  together  with  the  unblush 
ing  practices  of  their  opponents,  of  which  "  repeating  " 
negro  voters  was  the  most  common — completely  over 
shadowed  certain  little  irregularities  of  their  own  that 
would  have  been  difficult  to  explain,  but  which  did  not 
prevent  them  from  demanding  the  fruit  of  their  efforts. 

(372) 


CONCLUSION.  373 


With  the  same  surprising  unanimity  that  had  charac 
terized  them  throughout  the  campaign,  the  entire  white 
people  agreed  to  resist  the  attempt  to  wrest  away  the 
prize  they  had  worked  so  hard  to  obtain  ;  and  their 
feelings  may  be  imagined  when  they  freely  expressed 
a  preference  for  military  rule  rather  than  submit  to  a 
continuance  of  the  existing  government.  Equally 
determined,  jubilant,  and  supported  by  the  central 
powers,  the  Radicals  maintained  their  position  with 
great  effrontery,  and  unscrupulously  cast  out  the  vote 
of  enough  precincts  to  give  themselves  the  State  offices 
and  a  majority  in  the  House  of  Representatives.  In 
the  Senate  they  had  a  legal  majority. 

When  the  day  came  for  the  legislature  to  meet,  the 
doors  of  the  Capitol  were  found  guarded  by 
United  States  soldiers,  and  the  admission  of  the  white 
members  was  delayed  until  their  credentials  had 
been  inspected — the  object  being  to  prevent  the  en 
trance  of  the  Democratic  candidates  from  the  disputed 
counties.  This  being  accomplished,  the  Democrats, 
after  vainly  protesting  against  the  outrage,  refused  to 
participate  in  the  proceedings  unless  the  same  privilege 
was  accorded  all  their  members,  and  after  considerable 
excitement  they  retired,  as  they  had  come,  in  a  body. 
A  few  days  afterwards,  before  the  usual  time  for  meet 
ing,  the  Democrats  repaired  to  the  Capitol,  and,  as 
their  coming  was  unexpected,  they  easily  gained  an 
entrance  and  took  possession  of  their  seats.  When 
the  Republicans  arrived,  there  ensued  a  scene  which 
reflected  no  glory  on  either  party,  and  which  mocks 
description.  Two  speakers,  two  clerks,  and  practic 
ally  two  bodies  occupying  the  same  hall,  both  claiming 
to  be  the  legally  constituted  House  of  Representatives, 


374  THE    SHADOW  OF   THE   WAR. 

with  members  of  each  on  the  floor  endeavoring  to 
transact  business  of  a  different  nature  at  the  same  time, 
combined  to  form  a  spectacle  of  disorder  and  confu 
sion  that  can  be  likened  only  to  that  around  the  tower 
of  Babel.  No  violence  was  done,  but  this  siege  was 
maintained  for  several  days,  when  the  Democrats  re 
tired,  having  gained  nothing  by  their  strategic  move 
ment. 

The  next  step  on  the  part  of  the  Democrats  was  to 
form  themselves  into  an  independent  assembly  ;  but 
their  Senate  being  without  a  quorum,  their  proceed 
ings  were  of  course  irregular.  This,  however,  did  not 
prevent  Governor  Peyteinte  from  taking  the  oath  of 
office,  and  he  was  inaugurated  amid  the  applause  of 
some  twenty  thousand  people,  gathered  from  all  parts 
of  the  State.  Northborn  was  also  sworn  in  by  the 
Radicals.  There  were  then  two  governments  in  every 
department,  each  performing  governmental  functions, 
so  far  as  the  abnormal  state  of  affairs  would  permit. 
But  as  the  Radicals  had  control  of  the  offices  and  the 
treasury,  the  Democrats  were  without  funds,  and  their 
irregular  organization  prevented  the  levying  a  tax  upon 
the  people.  They  therefore  passed  a  concurrent  res 
olution,  signed  by  Governor  Peyteinte,  authorizing  the 
latter  to  call  upon  the  people  for  an  advance  of  one- 
tenth  of  the  taxes  levied  the  year  previous,  which 
would  be  credited  on  their  tax  returns  at  the  restora 
tion  of  peace  and  order.  Commissioners  were  ap 
pointed,  and  when  their  reports  were  made  it  was 
found  that  one  hundred  and  twenty  thousand  dollars 
had  been  paid  in,  and  that  the  receipts  lacked  only 
twenty  thousand  dollars  of  what  a  compulsory  levy 
would  have  furnished.  Such  remarkable  and  unani- 


CONCLUSION.  375 


mous  devotion  to  a  government  which  as  yet  could 
scarcely  be  called  established  save  in  the  hearts  of  the 
people,  has  perhaps  seldom  been  witnessed  ;  and  it  also 
told  the  whole  country,  in  unmistakable  terms,  how  the 
tax-paying  element  revolted  against  the  rule  of  cor 
ruption  which  had  been  endured  so  long. 

This  contest  for  the  mastery  between  the  two  par 
ties  lasted  for  four  months,  and  the  suspense  in  which 
the  people  remained  during  that  period  was  depressing 
in  the  extreme  to  all  classes  of  industry.  Political 
excitement  prevailed  everywhere,  and  crowds  of 
excited  and  determined  men  gathered  in  the  capital 
of  the  State,  prone  to  mischief  through  their  rash  and 
impetuous  zeal.  At  one  time  there  were  thousands  of 
armed  white  men  in  and  around  Clinton,  ready  at  the 
word  of  the  Democratic  governor  to  eject  the  small 
squad  of  soldiers  and  seize  the  public  buildings.  One 
day  the  patience  of  these  men  became  in  some  way 
strained  to  the  utmost,  and  suddenly  a  spontaneous 
movement  began  towards  the  capitol.  But  at  the  very 
crisis,  before  they  had  brought  irretrievable  disaster  to 
their  cause,  Governor  Peyteinte  appeared  and  calmed 
the  angry  multitude  by  the  voice  which  they  all  loved 
and  respected.  So  thoroughly  in  unison  were  they 
with  their  leader,  so  devoted  and  so  trusting,  that  they 
silently  yielded  to  his  appeals -to  leave  the  solution  of 
their  difficulties  to  peaceful  means. 

The  end  came  at  last.  When  the  new  President 
was  inaugurated  on  the  fourth  of  March,  negotiations 
were  at  once  begun  for  relief ;  and  finally  the  Execu 
tive  adopted  the  only  safe  course,  by  withdrawing  the 
handful  of  troops  and  allowing  the  party  which  pos 
sessed  the  power  and  support  of  the  people  to  assume 


376  THE   SHADOW  OF   THE    WAR. 

control.  On  the  tenth  day  of  April,  orders  reached 
Clinton  to  remove  the  soldiers  ;  and  on  the  eleventh 
the  Radical  regime  was  a  thing  of  the  past.  Thus 
came  to  its  death  one  of  the  worst  governments  that 
has  disgraced  modern  civilization  ;  and,  arnid  the  joy 
ous  acclamations  of  her  citizens,  the  New  South  was 
born. 

One  day  early  in  the  new  year,  the  town  of  Belle 
ville  discovered  that  the  Rev.  Mr.  Tomkins  no 
longer  desired  to  dwell  within  its  limits,  and  had 
departed  to  adorn  a  more  appreciative  sphere.  It 
appears  from  the  best  accounts — that  is,  from  the 
sufferers  themselves — that  his  congregation  had  con 
fided  some  money  to  his  care,  which  he  saw  fit  to  use 
as  seemed  best  to  him  at  the  time.  When  the  election 
resulted  so  disastrously  to  his  party,  Tomkins  had  a 
quarrel  with  his  patron,  Sharpe,  on  account  of  a  refu 
sal  by  the  latter  to  render  his  servant  certain  pecuniary 
remuneration.  Disappointed  in  obtaining  the  prom 
ised  money,  and  unable  to  meet  the  demands  of  his 
enraged  congregation,  Tomkins  would  gladly  have 
availed  himself  of  the  bankrupt  act ;  but  the  righteous 
indignation  of  "  de  brudders  an'  sisters"  rendered  him 
apprehensive  for  his  personal  safety,  and  so  the  town 
awoke  one  morning  to  mourn  its  loss.  Later  on, 
vague  reports  circulated  around  Belleville  that  he  was 
taking  an  active  part  in  the  exodus  to  Kansas  ;  but 
these  rumors  were  probably  unreliable.  As  for  Sharpe, 
he  retired  when  the  game  was  over,  with  quite  a 
respectable  fortune,  and  is  most  likely  living  as  a  use 
ful  and  respected  citizen  in  some  portion  of  the  Union. 

Early  in  the  spring,  when  Democratic  success  was 
no  longer  uncertain,  the  old  negress,  Mirandy,  was 


CONCLUSION.  377 


again  subjected  to  an  examination,  and,  upon  promise 
of  pardon  for  herself  and  all  others  concerned,  she 
confessed  having  received  the  jewel  case  from  her 
daughter  Hetty,  the  Mixons'  servant.  Hetty,  in  turn, 
and  also  with  a  promise  of  immunity.,  related  how  she 
had  stolen  the  case  at  the  instigation  of  Tomkins,  and 
had  at  first  buried  it  under  a  tree,  after  abstracting 
one  sleeve-button,  which  she  gave  to  the  preacher. 
When  some  time  had  passed,  she  dug  up  the  case  and 
confided  it  to  her  mother  for  safe  keeping.  Finally,  it 
having  in  some  way  become  known  how  Hortense's 
information  got  to  the  prosecution,  the  mystery  of  the 
affair  was  cleared  up  to  the  satisfaction  of  all  parties. 
After  these  developments,  the  State's  Attorney  was 
easily  persuaded  to  enter  a  nol.  pros.,  and  the  case 
against  Mixon  and  Graham  was  dismissed.  It  was 
surprising  how  pliable  the  few  Radicals  who  still  held 
office  had  become  when  the  Democrats  obtained 
control. 

Maurice  Graham  and  Hortense  Gildersleeve  were 
married,  "  at  the  residence  of  the  bride's  parents,  in 
Belleville,"  as  the  cards  announced,  the  following 
June  ;  and  immediately  after  the  ceremony,  the  couple, 
with  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Gildersleeve,  took  the  train  for  the 
North,  where  they  spent  the  summer,  returning  South 
in  the  fall.  The  wedding  was  a  very  quiet  affair,  only 
a  few  intimate  friends  being  present  besides  the  two 
families ;  but  among  the  guests  was  Ernest  Trundon, 
who  came  from  Boston  especially  to  attend.  It  might 
be  told  where  the  younger  Grahams  now  live  in  Car- 
rollton ;  how  Aunt  Dinah  finally  became  reconciled  to 
the  marriage,  though  she  never  could  wholly  forget 
that  "  a  Yankee  gal  had  ketched  her  young  marsa  ;  " 


378  THE   SHADOW  OF    THE    WAR. 

how  the  firm  of  Gravoir  &  Graham  is  prospering,  and 
— indeed,  a  great  deal  might  be  said  about  their  happy 
home  life,  but  Hortense  has  lately  expressed  the 
emphatic  opinion  that  these  things  concern  only  the 
family. 

When  the  excitement  of  politics  had  subsided, 
Major  Mixon  devoted  himself  assiduously  to  business. 
A  year  or  two  later,  he  erected  a  saw-mill  on  the  banks 
of  the  river  flowing  through  his  pine  forests,  and  since 
then  he  has  been  making  more  money  by  his  own 
industry  than  ever  before  in  his  life.  He  is  prosper 
ing,  and  his  wife  is  happy. 

The  New  South  has  entered  on  her  career,  and  at 
last,  being  granted  equal  social  conditions  with  the 
rest  of  our  country,  it  remains  for  her  people  to  shape 
their  own  future  ;  and  time  will  prove  whether  they 
possess  those  inherent  qualities  which  make  a  land 
prosperous  and  happy,  and  whether  the  bitter  lessons 
of  the  past  have  taught  them  to  discern  and  provide 
against  the  dangers  which  will  threaten  the  future  if  a 
spirit  of  intolerance  and  opposition — the  most  preg 
nant  source  of  their  troubles  in  the  past — shall  control 
their  actions  and  obscure  their  judgment. 


"Stirring  events  are  graphically  told  in  this  series 
of  romances." — Home  Journal,  'New  York. 


TIMES  OF  GUSTAF  ADOLF. 

AN  HISTORICAL  ROMANCE  OF   THE  EXCITING 
TIMES  OF  THE  THIRTY  YEARS'  WAR. 

FROM  THE  ORIGINAL  SWEDISH. 

BY  Z.  TOPELIUS. 
I2mo,  extra  cloth,  black  and  gilt.     Price  $1.25. 

"A  vivid,  romantic  picturing  of  one  of  the  most  fascinating 
periods  of  human  history." — The  Times,  Philadelphia. 

"Every  scene,  every  character,  every  detail,  is  instinct  with 
life.  *  *  From  beginning  to  end  we  are  aroused,  amused, 
absorbed." — The  Tribune,  Chicago. 

"The  author  has  a  genuine  enthusiasm  for  his  subject,  and 
stirs  up  his  readers'  hearts  in  an  exciting  manner.  The  old  times 
live  again  for  us,  and  besides  the  interest  of  great  events,  there  is 
the  interest  of  humble  souls  immersed  in  their  confusions.  'Scott, 
the  delight  of  glorious  boys,'  will  find  a  rival  in  these  Surgeon 
Stories." —  The  Christian  Register,  Boston. 

"  It  is  difficult  to  give  an  idea  of  the  vividness  of  the  descrip 
tions  in  these  stories  without  making  extracts  which  would  be 
entirely  too  long.  It  is  safe  to  say,  however,  that  no  one  could 
possibly  fail  to  be  carried  along  by  the  torrent  of  fiery  narration 
which  marks  these  wonderful  tales.  *  *  Never  was  the  mar 
velous  deviltry  of  the  Jesuits  so  portrayed.  Never  were  the  horrors 
of  war  painted  in  more  lurid  colors." —  The  Press,  Philadelphia. 

"  The  style  is  simple  and  agreeable.  *  *  There  is  a  natu 
ral  truthfulness,  which  appears  to  be  the  characteristic  of  all 
these  Northern  authors.  Nothing  appears  forced ;  nothing 
indicates  that  the  writer  ever  thought  of  style,  yet  the  style  is  such 
as  could  not  well  be  improved  upon.  He  is  evidently  thoroughly 
imbued  with  the  loftiest  ideas,  and  the  men  and  women  whom  he 
draws  with  the  novelist's  facility  and  art  are  as  admirable  as  his 
manner  of  interweaving  their  lives  with  their  country's  battles 
and  achievements." — The  Graphic,  New  York. 

Sold  by  all  booksellers,  or  mailed  postpaid,  on  re 
ceipt  of  price,  by  the  publishers. 

JANSEN,  McCLURG,  &  CO., 
1  1  7,  1  1  9  &  1  2  1  Wabash  Av.,  Chicago,  111. 


"  A  brilliant  book  of  Brazilian  travels." 

—  Christian  Advocate,    Chicago. 


ROUND  ABOUT  RIO. 

BY  FRANK  D.  Y.  CARPENTER.     PRICE,  $2.00. 

A  new  book  of  Brazilian  Travels,  written  by  a  scientific  gentleman 

who  held  for  several  years  the  position  of  Geographer  of  the 

Geological  Survey  of  Brazil,  and  under  these  peculiarly 

favorable  conditions,  acquired  the  material  of 

which  this  book  is  made. 

"  In  some  respects  it  is  the  cleverest  book  of  travels  that  has 
appeared  since  Mark  Twain's  '  Innocents  Abroad.'  " — Buffalo  Ex. 

"  The  author's  studies  of  Brazilian  life  and  manners,  and  his 
method  of  presenting  them,  are  unique,  and  his  book  occupies  a 
place  quite  its  own  among  works  of  travel."— //i?;»<f  Journal,  Boston. 

"  It  recounts  the  adventures  of  young  people  in  the  neighbor 
hood  of  Rio  Janeiro,  and  is  full  of  information  and  life.  It  is  a 
book  which  the  thoughtful  will  read  for  information,  and  the  young 
for  its  genuine  fun." — N.  Y.  Christian  Advocate.  . 

"A  brilliant  book  of  Brazilian  travels,  entirely  unlike  any 
now  before  the  public.  .  .  It  is  doubtful  if  there  is  anywhere 
to  be  found  so  good  a  picture  of  life  and  scenes  in  and  about  the 
great  metropolis  of  the  Southern  Hemisphere — Rio  de  Janeiro." — 
Christian  Advocate,  Chicago. 

"  Mr.  Carpenter  is  thoroughly  acquainted  with  Brazilian  life 
and  manners,  having  obtained  his  knowledge  under  peculiarly 
favorable  circumstances,  and  the  half  cynical,  wholly  humorous 
vein,  in  which  he  writes  is  as  novel  as  it  is  amusing.  The  solid 
pellets  of  information  are  so  successfully  sugared  with  conversation 
that  the  most  inveterate  reader  of  fiction  must  swallow  them  with 
pleasure.  Among  books  of  its  class  it  will  take  a  foremost  rank." 
— Boston  Globe. 

Sold  by  all  booksellers,  or  mailed,  post-paid,  on 
receipt  of  price,  by  the  publishers, 

JANSEN,  McCLURG,  &  CO., 
Cor.  Wabash  Ave.  and  Madison  St.,  Chicago. 


"A  record  of  stirring  dates  and  deeds.99 

— Pioneer  Press,  St  Paul 

POLITICAL  RECOLLECTIONS 

1840   to   1872. 

BY  HON    GEORGE  W.  JULIAN.     PRICE,  $1.50. 


"  His  attitude  is  that  of  one  who  is  done  with  politics  and  can 
review  the  fields  fought  over,  without  bitterness."-./V<?z0  York  Sun. 

''Like  Wraxall's  '  Historical  Memoirs,'  this  book  infuses  dry 
detail  with  a  personal  interest,  a  biographical  charm,  which 
makes  it  by  far  the  most  attractive  account  of  the  anti-slavery  re 
form  that  we  have  yet  seen." — Boston  Transcript. 

"The  lesson  of  the  book  is  the  lesson  of  a  dedicated  life. 
The  service  of  his  constituents  during  his  long  term  in  Congress 
seems  to  have  been  a  passion,  and  he  was  ready  at  all  times,  to 
perform  it  without  counting  the  cost  to  himself." — Indianapolis 
Sentinel. 

"Mr.  Julian  was  always  a  man  of  strong  opinions,  and  has  a 
vigorous  and  generally  clear  way  of  stating  them.  His  loves  and 
his  hates  were  also  intense.  It  is  quite  natural,  therefore,  that  we 
should  find  the  story  of  his  personal  share  in  the  conflicts  of  his 
active  career  spiced  with  sketches  of  his  great  contemporaries,  in 
which  they  are  painted  with  the  colors  they  had  to  him,  and  not 
always  those  in  which  their  owr>  friends  would  have  presented 
them." —  7^he  Nation,  New  York. 

"Mr.  Julian  gives  only  brief  attention  to  campaigns ;  more 
vital  incidents  press  upon  his  attention,  It  was  in  the  rise  of  the 
republican  party  his  heart  was  centered,  and  when  '  stern  visaged 
war'  came  on  apace  his  every  energy  was  to  measures  for  the 
preservation  of  the  Union.  He  met  all  the  public  men  of  his 
day,  was  intimate  with  many  of  them  and  understood  the  motive 
by  which  they  were  guided.  He  was  thus  equipped  with  the 
facts,  and  a  clear  style,  combining  vigor  and  piquancy,  has  en 
abled  him  to  produce  a  book  that  is  intensely  interesting.  It 
will  necessarily  have  hosts  of  readers." — Herald,  Rochester,  N.  Y. 

Sold  by  all  booksellers,  or  sent  by  mail,  post 
paid,  on  receipt  of  price,  by  the  publishers, 

JANSEN,  McCLURG,  &  CO., 
Cor.  Wabash  Ave.  and  Madison  St.,  Chicago. 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY 

Los  Angeles 

This  book  is  DUE  on  the  last  date  stamped  below. 


1 


University  of  California 

SOUTHERN  REGIONAL  LIBRARY  FACILITY 

405  Hilgard  Avenue,  Los  Angeles,  CA  90024-1388 

Return  this  material  to  the  library 

from  which  it  was  borrowed. 


01  OCT  1  4  19?  6 


SEP  1 


Form  L9 


PLEA**?  DO   NOT    REMOVE 
THIS   BOOK  CARD" 


University  Research  Library 


[fl 

I 

a 


PS 
991 


